


dreams are the second form of reality

by Flooftheriver



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Prince, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Blood and Violence, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Dancing, Deceit Sanders - Freeform, Dragons, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Help, I Don't Even Know, Just to be on the safe side kiddos, Logic | Logan Sanders - Freeform, M/M, Minor Violence, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Character Death, Prince!Logan, Prince!Virgil, Roman's dreams, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF), VIRGIL IS A PRINCE, Weird shadow monsters, Wizard!Patton, prince AU, there is magic my dudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flooftheriver/pseuds/Flooftheriver
Summary: Roman’s creative capabilities stretched further than anywhere any of the sides realised he could go- sometimes even Roman himself. He could craft intricate worlds from nothing, invent people out of mere whispers of an idea, all for the purpose of filling the night with adventure.His dreams were so strong in fact that they could unknowingly pull others in, bending them to the will of the story he created.So what happens when he dreams up a Prince, and finds he needs somebody to play the role?





	1. PART ONE: There’s green hidden in gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ripped up shoes they will make do, there’s places I’d like to go to.
> 
> Daydreaming of what could have been, but I know I’m not made to win.”
> 
> -Unfortunate Soul, Kailee Morgue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOSE READY FOR MORE PRINCE VIRGIL AU CAUSE I SURE AM OH HECKITY HECK LETS GO GUYS.
> 
> MAJOR AUTHOR NOTE: these first few chapters kinda suck, I'm DEFINITELY going to end up rewriting them. Please give this fic a chance!

**Part One**

**There’s green hidden in gold**

 

 

It started for Virgil one ordinary night. His room was dark, the mind was quiet- reality seemed a world away. 

 

 

 

"Prince Virgil!" A young boy approached the anxious persona, the fear and distain he was used to seeing in people's eyes replaced by awe and wonder. "Thank you for helping my family remove the Shadows." The boy held up a small pouch, head bowed to the ground as he waited for him to take it. Glancing around, he instead knelt down in front of the boy, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"What is your name?"

"Arthur, Sir."

"Keep the money, Arthur. The only reward I need is the smiling faces of those I help- nothing more." He pushed the money back toward him for emphasis, and smiled as the boy's eyes widened, bowing again before running off, the pouch clutched in his hand.

"Thank you, Sir!"

That was what people called him now, in this world that he would wake up in every night. He wasn't complaining- it was a nice change to the nightmares, of the others finding him and casting him aside, saying he was _useless_ , _horrible_ , _a waste of space_ -

He shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind. Not here. Not while he was in this place where the people seemed to love him, where they seemed to care. He smiled after the distant figure of the boy, who had reached a man- most probably his father. He held up the bag, and pointed back in Virgil's direction, and he could see the father smiling too, reaching up to wave in thanks. Virgil waved back, his hand coming down to rest on his sword.

He had discovered that sword fighting came easily to him here, as if he had been taught as a child. He heard whispered tales of his bravery wherever he went, recollections of his epic battles against demons, monsters - even a _dragon_.

_He slayed the beast where it stood._

_One feel swoop- and the danger was gone._

_Prince Virgil._

This was all he heard as he roamed the streets of the kingdom he had come to know and love. So was it really such surprise that maybe- just maybe, he liked this world better than the real one?

•••

His interest was perked when the whispers changed. Somebody new- a prince, they said- was coming to the kingdom. They murmured his legends, his battles won and lost, and his gaze upon the word became sweeping, studying for a new face or a body being held in a regal pose that stood out the bustle of the native folk. The nights continued to pass, and Virgil opened his eyes with vigour every time he entered his world- _just_ in case the prince _had_ arrived.

He had a certain feeling though, one that told him that it wouldn't happen while he was away. If the prince was going to enter his life, his new world, he would be there when it happened.

Then one night- or _day_ , once he had opened his eyes, the voices of the people had grown into faces- into _bodies_ that crowded together around a majestic white carriage that slowly made it's way towards the castle on shimmering golden wheels. Virgil wondered what the prince would look like- he wasn't the most imaginative person- but excitement filled his whole body all the same. 

Concern flashed amidst the excitement, when he saw a blur in the corner of his eye. Turning to the side, he caught sight of a hooded figure dashing down a side street, ignored by the building crowds that were clamouring for a sight of the prince. Virgil blinked, losing track of his thoughts for a moment. He knew that the tension was building for the newest arrival in the kingdom- but wasn't this a little extreme? Just how popular was this guy?

It was like he popped out of nowhere- but Virgil didn't have time to ponder it as he slipped out of the still-increasing crowds, hand already on his sword's handle. The shadows of the alley didn't unnerve him, he saw enough of them in his room when he was awake, so he stepped into the darkness with ease after the stranger.

“Halt, in the name of the king!” 

The hooded stranger gave so sign of hearing what Virgil had said, and if he was being honest that pissed him off a little.

”You there! I said _stop_ -“

“-In the name of the king, I know.”

A voice rang out- a man’s- crisp and clear and definitely not what Virgil was expecting. The surrounding shadows made it difficult to see the man’s face, so he took steps closer, only holding his sword’s handle out of caution, not fear.

Never fear.

This was his world. And in this world he could be a person so entirely different to who he was while awake that it was as if he had stepped out of his skin, leaving his worries and anxiety behind when he awoke to the sounds of the kingdom. His kingdom.

So fear was out of the question. A foreign entity, that existed outside of his comprehension.

Virgil was not afraid.

That was, until he saw the man’s face in the dimmed light, and the truth crashed down onto him all at once. This was not his world, not anymore. It never _was_ his world, but he hadn’t thought it through before now, he hadn’t wanted to. The kingdom was large and detailed and extraordinary- how could he ever dream up something like that? He couldn’t even create the new prince’s face. 

It turns out he didn’t need to.

The stranger grinned, his face angular and sharp due to the shadows. His eyes were focused on the ground but the colour was already known the prince, and the vibrant shade of his hair appeared darker in the lack of light, but Virgil knew it was a perfect match to his own.

”Don’t worry. I’m no bandit- I’m a prince.”

He performed a mock bow to Virgil, who stood rooted to the spot, unaware of his knuckles turning a painful white at his tightly he was gripping his sword.

”Prince Roman, at your service.”

Oh. _Oh_. 

”Talking about the king, could you escort me to him? I was trying to avoid the crowd, but I don’t want to be late.”

Virgil only nodded, but went to speak as Roman couldn’t properly see him with his back to the only source of light.

”Yes, of course.” He swallowed as they stepped into the street, the prince’s robes becoming visible under his dark embroidered cloak. The strands of gold swirling with the forest green fabric caught Virgil’s eye, much like the words he wanted to say were getting caught in his throat.

Hearing a gasp from the other prince, Virgil finally pulled his gaze away from the cloak up to the wearer’s face. His eyes were widened slightly, mouth agape as he saw the face of the one who had pursed him down the darkened street.

Alarms started going off in Virgil’s head. Roman clearly hadn’t meant to add him into his dream, his reaction to meeting him told the native prince that, and he struggled to keep his face neutral, not wanting to let panic cloud his gaze to mirror the expression of the man stood opposite him.

In the moment he had to think, Virgil made a decision. 

“What _are_ you staring at? I’d say you’d never seen anyone with violet locks before, but you have them too, so that can’t be it.” Virgil narrowed his eyes to finish, waiting as Roman cleared his throat, regaining some of that royal composure of his.

Roman had made him afraid. Afraid that if he knew that the Virgil he was currently conversing with was the real Virgil- he would remove him from the dream entirely. But if he pretended he was part of the story, then _maybe_ -

The grey prince struggled not to hold his breath as he waited for the newcomer’s answer, praying that he would take the bait.

After what seemed like an eternity, Roman offered him a brilliant smile to attempt to clear the tension. Virgil couldn’t help but admit that it worked- his chest loosened slightly, and his shoulders relaxed, but the nerves were replaced with something else. There was an uncommon feeling in his chest- almost a _pang_ , but Virgil ignored it in favour of continuing to play his role.

”I was only having a realisation- that _you_ are the man I’ve heard so much about, _Prince_ _Virgil_.”

The beaming grin was gone, replaced by an easy smile, and Virgil found that ignoring the pang had been the right call- it had already drifted away.

Maybe, if he played along with Roman’s dream, he would be able to stay in the world he had come to appreciate just as much as the real one. 

Virgil began to walk, the streets a lot quieter now that the crowds had dispersed. He still picked up the occasional voice in his ears, but he wasn’t focusing on the specific words, not really. How could he- when everything had changed? “Really? What did you hear?” His voice was nonchalant, but in all honesty he did care what Roman had to say. What lies would he make up, what would his mind create to fill in the chapters of the story that was Virgil?

Virgil knew his life here, but that didn’t mean that the scarlet prince couldn’t change that existance in a single moment. The thought was calming, in a way. Calming and terrifying all at once.

If Virgil’s ideas were only speculation, then Roman’s words were the hard-hitting canon.

“Rumours say you took down a Hades’ shifter, and that you did it _alone_.” Virgil was briefly reminded of the book of dragons Thomas had created when he was younger, and that the beast Roman spoke of was the worst of them all. “They say you’ve trained in the art of sword fighting since you were able to walk- though I suspect that’s a slight exaggeration- and that you can beat _anyone_ , no matter the time or place.”

Virgil was pulled to a halt at the sound of Roman’s laugh, it sounded even more joyful than when they were awake. 

“They call you special. Honestly, I can see why.”

The grey prince forced himself to remember how to walk, pressing on to the castle with only the slightest wobble. His voice was considerably quieter than it should have been, and he inwardly cursed himself for that. “Why?”

“Because you’ve got cool hair. Not as extravagant as mine, of _course_ , but it’s pretty close.”

”Pretty close to being like yours. I’m guessing that’s a compliment?”

”But of course.”

Virgil sighed. It seemed no matter what reality they were living in, some things never changed. “Alright then.”


	2. Our true selves sit by the water's edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and everything you do.
> 
> Yeah they were all yellow.”
> 
> -Yellow, Coldplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE ARE BACK AGAIN OH MAN OH MAN THIS IS JOY TO WRITE

**Our true selves sit by the water's edge**

 

If Virgil had been impressed by the sheer detail of the marketplace, then the first time he had seen the castle was enough to have him sold on this world for good.

When he had first ridden there, something he noticed was how the dust and dirt faded away the further he went, until the track was surrounded only by rolling fields of green, the proud oaks standing tall like soldiers guarding the path, and the river that ran closely alongside him, giving the grey prince a feeling of consistency as he left the bustle of life behind.

Eventually the river had widened, the sound increasing from gentle to a vicious thrumming, the continuous noise sounding almost like a unsteady heartbeat. Virgil had ridden around the corner of a hill to see that the rapidly moving waters had expanded again, now stretching out to fill a lake. And behind it-

Behind it was something that took his breath away.

The castle shone in shades of ruby and burnt amber with the fading light- Virgil really had been riding for a while- giving the impression that it was carved out of precious gemstones. Three towers stood, but their lengths varied. Virgil hadn’t known why then, and he still didn’t know now. 

And if the one castle wasn’t enough, a rippling reflection of it shimmered on the top of the lake. The waters had been still that day- an occurrence that hadn’t happened since- so Virgil could see every detail mirrored perfectly as he got closer and closer. He was reflected too, and he couldn’t help but stare in awe at the water, still not used to seeing the man that stares back. A man that seemed confident. A man that was every part a prince.

So as he rode up to the castle now, another prince by his side, he kept his gaze firmly on the white structure ahead, the shades of fire nowhere to be seen as the sun had not yet begun to set.

He didn’t want to see the castle’s reflection, because he would see his own too. He would see the grey prince- stripped away of his confidence and purpose until only Virgil remained, the anxious persona that hid in his oversized hoodies, and wore dark eyeshadow even though he knew he didn’t have to protect himself from others anymore.

He would see himself as he was when awake. And Virgil couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ see that. Not here.

Not now.

”Prince Virgil, are you alright?”

Virgil flinched, the reminder that he wasn’t alone with his thoughts coming back to him all too quickly as he snapped his head to face the other rider- who was staring him down with an all too bemused look on his face. “You seem terribly lost in thought.”

He sighed, looking down as gripped his horse’s reigns in favour of running a hand through his coloured hair. “I’m fine, I just-“ He could still hear the river, crashing against the bank as it seemed to clamour for his attention, sounding louder in his ears the more he tried to ignore it. “-I just remembered something. It’s nothing, really.”

When the scarlet prince kept his gaze on Virgil, his eyebrow rising to show his disagreement to his statement, he relented- sighing again. 

“I’m just not too fond of water at the moment.”

”Oh.” The Prince seemed surprised, as if it wasn’t the reason he was expecting, but he quickly got over it.

The sun was shining directly into Roman’s face as he offered Virgil a smile- stupid Princey, he probably made it that way on purpose- so the small smile glowed, and his brown eyes seemed lighter than normal. Virgil was lost in the colour for a moment, but pulled his gaze away when the prince went to speak.

”Afraid of the water? But aren’t you a _prince_?”

”I don’t follow.”

”You should be _brave_! Brave, charming, and _slightly_ less handsome than me- because I’d prefer not to have too much competition.”

Virgil could almost hear the laugh in Roman’s words.

”And yet here you are- a _prince_ , afraid of a little _water_. How contradictory of your position, my friend.”

Virgil almost wanted to laugh- _this_ was the Roman he knew, the one with sharp comments and a flair for rivalry, the one he could handle. 

Instead of replying he only urged his horse onwards, pulling ahead of the scarlet prince- ignoring his shouts as he did so.

”Hey, I don’t know if you forgot, but I don’t know where I’m going?”

”Well, hurry up then.” He couldn’t resist throwing Roman a smile, and saw that he was already urging his horse to go faster. 

_Im sure you’ll be fine. You made this place after all, so how lost could you possibly get?_

His smile faltered at that thought, and he wasn’t quite able to swallow down the bitterness that came with it. He made this place, Virgil was becoming more and more sure of that. It wasn’t like Roman would appear in one of _his_ dreams. As they raced, Virgil could see a blur in the corner of his eye. His mind was a mess, and his thoughts in disarray, so he looked towards it without thinking, and-

He was looking at his reflection in the water. It wasn’t a perfect copy now- the water was much to rough for that- but he could see his grey robes, and his purple hair that looked almost red now that the sun was finally beginning to set.

_I have to hurry, if I want to get this done before we both wake up._

His reflection looked smaller than it had the first time he had seen it, more hunched over, more afraid. Virgil tore his eyes away before the thoughts from earlier returned- he didn’t want Roman to start questioning him again.

Concern eased it’s way into his mind when he realised he could only hear one horse running. The grey prince came to a quick stop, looking around almost desperately. Roman had been behind him- he definitely had been, but Virgil had gotten lost in thought again, and now-

_”Hey, I don’t know if you forgot, but I don’t know where I’m going?”_

Virgil cursed under his breath. He’d only been escorting him for _one_ day- and he’d already managed to lose the guy. ”Prince Roman! Where did you go?”

He turned around, urging his horse to gallop as he rode back the way he came. There was only one path, so where had the prince gone? " _Roman!_ "

"I'm here, I'm here. Geez, calm down would you? Anyone would think you were my mother with the way you're panicking."

Roman had gotten off his horse, now standing by the edge of the lake- peering intently into the rippling waters. Virgil scanned his body. He was fine. 

He was fine.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Virgil had to resist the urge to kick the scarlet prince into the water- Roman would definetly know something was wrong if he did, so he settled for storming over to chew him out. “We’ve got to _move_ , Prince! The king is expecting you, and it would be rude to-“

”Shh.”

” _I beg your pardon_ -“

”No seriously, shut up and _look_!”

Virgil has every intention of ignoring Roman completely, and had just decided to kick him into the water anyway when he caught a glimpse of something in the water. Something that was most definitely _not_ the pair’s reflections.

”What _is_ it?” 

Whatever was in the water, it was too deep to make out, the lack of sunlight too great. When the other prince didn’t reply he nudged him, just hard enough that he tilted forwards and came dangerously close to falling into the lake. ”Did you see?”

Roman only readjusted his position, not even glancing Virgil’s way as he answered.

”No. No, I didn’t.”

He frowned at the prince’s reply. He knew for a fact that if Roman had created this world, then he would be responsible for the creation of- _whatever_ it was they had seen.

He frowned because he hadn’t thought of Roman as a liar.

Virgil sighed at that, and only when he rose back up to his feet did he realise how dark the road had become. The grey prince stepped backwards- but kept his gaze on the water, as if the unknown would reveal itself if he waited long enough.

”Prince Roman. We need to keep moving.”

”Wait, wait. Don’t you want to know what that was?”

Virgil paused with his hands on the reigns of his horse, eyes trained on the prince who had stood up as well. Roman didn’t notice- his gaze was focused on the rippling waters, and if Virgil didn’t know any better he’d say that he wanted to jump in.

“Of course I do. But I don’t want to keep the King waiting more. And if you wish to be a welcome guest in this kingdom, then I suggest you follow me.”

Thankfully, after a moment of silence his words seemed to be enough, and Roman made his way slowly over to him, like he was waking up from a long sleep. They mounted their horses, and Virgil noted that the scarlet prince looked back only once as they finished their journey.

Now, all they had to do was meet the king.

No pressure there then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re enjoying this, please let me know in the comments! :)


	3. An abundance of lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I can't stop till the whole word knows my name, cause I was only born inside my dreams.”
> 
> -Centuries, Fall Out Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME NEW BOYS NOW EVERYONE.

**An abundance of Lavender**

 

“Prince Virgil. I wasn’t anticipating _your_ arrival this evening.”

”My lord, I took it upon myself to escort the new arrival to your presence, and I take full responsibility for our lateness.”

Virgil was knelt in front of the throne stationed in the centre of the room, his head bowed respectfully as he spoke his words.

His eyes flashed to the prince at his side for a moment, an irrational fear that he was going to do something stupid rising up in his chest. He hoped Roman wouldn’t try to take the blame off of him, like the maddeningly noble man he was.

Thankfully, the scarlet prince remained silent.

”Rise.”

They both obeyed, and Virgil raised his head.

King Owain leaned his chin on his hand, head tilting as took in the sight of the two princes side by side. Virgil could not yet bring himself to look him the eye- so he focused on that hand, and on the numerous purple gems decorating it. Even without looking at the king, he could tell Owain was solely on him, eyes like two onix stones.

”Thanks to your tardiness, we will have to reconvene at a later date.”

The scary thing was, no anger rang out with his voice. No emotion at all, in fact. It sounded to the prince that the King was retelling the words from a script- a mere copy of the great rulers that he was based on. Virgil supposed that Roman couldn’t get everything right.

As Virgil risked a glance at his lord, he felt an unexplainable weakness weight lift off his shoulders as he saw the King’s gaze move away, giving him the feeling that he could fly.

The freezing gaze slid over to the prince at his side, and he heard, rather than saw Roman shuffle almost uncomfortably. So he felt it to.

Why did Roman have to go and make the King so bloody ominous?

”Yes, my lord.” Virgil lowered his face from the King’s yet again, instead focusing on the colours that surrounded him, almost like they were a part of his very being. He noticed that one ring matched the purple locks of his hair, yet the shirt Owain had donned was a deep violet- a shade that reminded Virgil of the darkness that lay in the King’s eyes for all to see. His cloak was lighter, but it still lay curled around his body like a shadow- constricting and concealing the man inside.

Even his skin was a pale shade of periwinkle, thanks to the stained glass on both walls either side of the throne, shining purple light onto the seat below. Virgil had long ago realised that whoever had designed the building had intended it to be that way, and marvelled at the ingenuity that they had used to separate the King from everyone else.

For his lilac skin alienated him from his people- it was a reminder to them that he was _different_. That he was _better_. Virgil _felt_ that he was better than them, anyway.

”Prince Roman.”

He saw Roman’s back straighten out of the corner of his eye.

”Yes, my lord?”

“You will stay with the Grey Prince while you are here in Avalonia. I trust you have no issue with that.”

It wasn’t a question. Virgil’s stomach tightened when he recognised the name the King had uttered all too well. He frowned slightly, as however how much he knew the Grey Prince, the name of the Kingdom that Owain had spoken wasn’t known to him. He turned fully this time, filling his gaze with the scarlet prince who’s eyes were stuck on the King as he waited for an answer. Had Roman already begun to change his dream? Before it was only known to Virgil as the Kingdom- but he supposed nothing was safe anymore.

He fingers curled into fists as he imagined Roman removing him, casting him aside. He imagined having to go back to his sleepless nights- or at best, the nightmares that left him clinging to his sheets, unwilling to re-close his eyes.

Virgil knew he didn’t want to leave.

He also knew that it wasn’t up to him.

”That will be perfect, my lord.” Roman paired his words with a bow, worlds away from the one he had given Virgil only mere hours ago. Despite his thoughts, Virgil wanted to laugh at how polite he was being. He wished he could film it to show Patton once he woke up.

Roman turned to Virgil and he tried to act like he hadn’t been staring. The prince blinked, silent for a moment before regarding Virgil with a short smile, as if he couldn’t conjure up anything bigger in the King’s presence. 

“Prince Virgil, I know that is is late, but would you be willing to escort me to the home of this ‘Grey Prince?’”

The urge to laugh resurfaced, and Virgil quickly nodded and turned away from Roman’s questioning gaze before he could see his smile.

_Oh, you oblivious idiot._

”Good. And Virgil?”

The prince turned at his name, and was frozen to the spot. The ink-black eyes held him in place, and the weight that had returned to his shoulders made it hard to breathe.

”Make sure Prince Roman isn’t late again.”

He struggled to get the words out. “Indeed, my lord.”

He held out a bejewelled hand- to send the two princes away, and to beckon a young man to his side who was also clothed in various shades of lilac and magenta. Virgil had already turned away before he could see his face. He barely even realised that the King was speaking again, his mind too wrapped up in those shadow filled eyes of his.

The two princes reached the door. Virgil couldn’t step out quick enough.

”Excuse me?”

He jumped- immediately praying that Roman hadnt seen so that he couldnt tease him later for not being ‘prince enough,’ and cleared his throat as he turned to the voice’s speaker.

The grey prince struggled not to let his jaw drop.

He noticed the hair first. It was perhaps a little shorter than the real thing, with- was that an _undercut_? There was also slightly less purple shining on top- but it was definitely the same hair that Virgil himself had.

The young man wore a plain white tunic, but any simplistic style he was attempting to show was completely destroyed by the eye-catching cape of a deep purple, that shimmered a paler shade in the light. It was trimmed with white mink fur, and Virgil was reminded of Roman as a young side- playing dress up as a regal king, in his finest reds, whites and golds.

But this outfit looked everything but childish, and as Virgil’s gaze followed the strip of mink fur up the cloak, he realised that it would curl around the neck, letting him see the wearer’s face in the process. 

There were no glasses, but Virgil knew who he was looking at.

He resisted calling out the man’s name, and settled for a small smile instead. 

 _Logan_.

”Good evening.” The young man held his hand to his chest, and bowed slightly, showing the purple of the top of his hair even more. “My name is Prince Captiosus, son of the King. He requested me to escort you to the exit.”

Virgil only nodded, taking Roman’s newest change in his stride. Before this day, there were no children of the King. And now there was Logan, no- _Captiosus,_ to fill the empty space. 

The grey prince was once again reminded of the error in the tale- _his_ being there. Logan had only been added now, and who knows if he would have been if Virgil hadn’t popped up? There was also proof in the fact that Roman hadn’t changed his name.

_He was too surprised, most likely._

“How kind the King is. A pleasure to make your acquaintance- I am Roman, the Scarlet Prince of Gondwana. Though if you know of my Kingdom, then you may also know my other name- the Crimson Sword.”

Virgil couldn’t help but snort, wether it was at how polite Roman was being, or the thought of how long he had taken to come up with those names, he didn’t know. Probably both.

Roman didn’t seem to hear him, but a different set of eyes were drawn to him, and Virgil found himself under the curious gaze of the man in purple.

”I’m Virgil.” He paused with only the slightest glance at Roman’s face. “ _Grey Prince_ of Avalonia.” 

Any reply Roman might have given was blanked out as he watched Captiosus’ eyes drain of curiosity and and fill with confusion.

”We serve the same King, yet I _cannot_ remember seeing your face before this day.”

_How about when you look at your reflection?_

He nodded in understanding. “I tend to keep to myself most of the time.”

Captiosus moved his gaze away to Roman, clearly content with that answer, and Virgil couldn’t help but feel that he’d passed some kind of test.

The King’s son raised his arm, gesturing to the path ahead. “Even though my father has stated his wishes to guide you to the exit-“ the young man sighed, and Virgil’s mind created the mental image of him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “-I suspect that I do not need to. The Grey Prince lives on the grounds, does he not?”

”Yes.” 

“And I can trust that you know the way to your _own_ accommodation?”

”Yes.”

”Good. Then I shall take my leave.”

Captiosus held a jewel free hand to his chest again in farewell, before turning and heading the opposite way that Virgil would soon be walking. He glanced back once, calling over his shoulder.

”I hope to see you both at the Chorus Aeternam.”

And then he turned the corner, out of sight.

”Perhaps.”

He heard the shuffling of feet, and could tell that Roman had moved to stand by his side.

”So you’re the Grey Prince.”

He cracked a smile, turning to direct it Roman’s way to make up for hiding it in the King’s presence. “Yes I am. Surprised you didn’t realise sooner, if I’m being honest.”

The two began to walk, accompanied only by the steady stream of lit candles hung on the stone walls.

He gestured down to his own outfit, and Roman’s gaze followed his hand. “I mean- I’m literally _covered_ in grey.

”And I’m literally _covered_ in red. I don’t see you guessing my name.”

”You're not covered. Only your sash and shoulders are red.”

There was a silence. Virgil grinned.

”Oh, shut up.”

•••

As they reached the house- with some difficulties, the light was all but gone- Virgil’s stomach twisted. Doubt entered his mind as he rapped once on the door. What if this was his last night in the dream? What if Roman had figured it out- and had decided to remove him? And the worst thought- what if he didn’t know the truth, but wanted him gone anyway? 

Virgil admitted to himself that if the roles were reversed, he might do the same.

The black and white lines adorning the house’s walls used to seem pretty to the prince, but now they just looked like prison bars, ready to lock him away and never let him see this world again. 

_Please. I don’t want to leave yet._

There was still so much to look forwards to- the hunting parties, the dances, the places he had yet to explore. He didn’t want to leave.

 _Please_.

”The Grey Prince.”

Virgil spun so quickly that he almost toppled over, but balanced himself- if only to deter the other prince’s laughter. Roman was leaning against one of the pillars, that easy smile back in place.

”Kinda _boring_ , isn’t it? Did you not chose it yourself?”

So here it was. The calm before the storm.

”As a matter of fact, I did. Not everyone needs a flashy title like ‘The Crimson Dagger.” 

“Crimson Sword.”

”I don’t care.”

Roman laughed at that- of course he would- and his breath misted out in front of his face. The temperature had begun to drop, and was continuing to do so. He went to knock the door again, but Roman piped up.

”At least I _have_ a title. You’re just Grey.”

”Do you have a point, Roman?” He sighed resisting the urge to pull at his fingers in a very Virgil-like manner. He was so tired. 

“I was going to offer to make up a name for you. Something cooler, to make the crowds swoon, yeah?”

The fact that Roman was saying this... made Virgil feel like he wanted him to stay.

_But maybe he knows. Maybe he’s just trying to make me feel better before he kicks me out for good._

Virgil wasn’t going to listen. Roman had already lied once today.

Whose to say he wasn’t lying right now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, please leave a comment!
> 
> And if anyone has some short one-shot requests, I’m all ears :D


	4. There’s a dullness to reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm wasted, losing time. I'm a foolish, fragile spine. I want all that is not mine.”
> 
> -Smother, Daughter

**There’s a dullness to reality**

 

Roman noticed his turmoil and like the maddeningly noble man he was stepped forwards, one hand outstretched to help. Virgil wanted to scoff, to shout, to shove his hand away.

”Prince Virgil?”

 _I don't want you,_ he seethed in his mind, wanting more than anything to let the words pass his lips and sound out in the crisp air. The clouds of mist would do little to hide them. _I_ _don't want_ _your help_.  _Just leave me alone- you ruined this, you screwed this up for me._

“What is it?”

_You. It’s you._

Virgil was _so_ close to speaking, to letting everything slip. That close to losing Avalonia- the place that meant _everything_ to him.

He was never so glad for an interruption in his life when the door finally swung open, the resounding creak cutting off any chance of Roman speaking again. 

“Risus,  _come on._ What's taking so long?”

His housemate was a grouchy bastard, who couldn’t for the life of him ever remember Virgil’s name right, and he stunk up the place with his failed potions. But the prince didn’t mind that much, he wasn’t a bad guy. There were worse people to live with- like an oblivious prince who unconsciously ruined _everything_ for him _wherever_ he went. Asshole.

Virgil turned, expecting to see familiar pursed lips, sullen eyes, and ash-blond hair that was always looked like it was crying out in desparation for a hairbrush. 

Instead, his eyes were attacked by bright purple locks, and an even more vibrant smile. 

It was like he was the opposite of Logan- where his hair was shorter, this man’s curled around his ears, framing his smiling face. There were freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose- or, at least Virgil _thought_ there were. It was kind of hard to tell in the fading light. 

He swallowed down the laugh that was threatening to bubble up his throat, and once again kept the name that appeared in his mind to himself, instead uttering one that was foreign to the face smiling at him in the dark.

”Risus, it’s good to see you.” Virgil sighed as he strode forwards and pulled the young man into a hug. 

Patton was here, and suddenly all the anger and tension that had filled his mind was fading away, now that another familiar face was in sight again. For the second time since Roman had arrived, Virgil was happy with a change he had made.

He didn’t think it was going to become a regular occurrence, though.

Risus hugged him back- thank goodness, while laughing in pleasant surprise.

”Well, that was a quick change of attitude.”

_Not as quick as the change of your hair._

”Sorry,” he mumbled as he stepped away, feeling the biting cold of the air again. “It’s been a long day.” Now that he was up close, he could see that while Risus had the same purple hair as the rest of them, he had taken it one step further with tiny strands of ice blue that matched the robe he was wearing.

Virgil stepped out of the way, and gestured for Roman to approach. The Grey Prince wanted to scoff at the beaming smile that he was wearing, because he knew it wasn’t fake.

”I am Prince Roman of Gondwana. Pleasure to make your aquaintance.” He looked like he wanted to say more, so of course Virgil cut him off.

”I picked up this guy in the street, thought we could give him a room. He’s not _really_ a prince.”

Roman whirled on him, indignation flashing in his dark eyes. 

“Excuse me? I’m more of a Prince than you’ll ever be, Mister ‘I’m afraid of water.’

“Oh, will you _drop_ that already?” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

”Alright! Moving on.” Risus laughed, but Virgil could hear the tenseness in it. The young man threw out a hand and ushered the two princes inside, away from the bitter cold that wasn’t helping anyone’s attitudes.

“Well, Roman. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” He pointed towards a chair, and before Virgil realised what was happening he was being pulled into a different room, not seeing if Roman has decided to follow his instruction or not.

Risus turned on him, eyes wide, hair swirling in the air as it followed him and came to rest softly against his cheeks. “Kiddo, what was _that_ about?” 

Despite the worry in his friend’s face, Virgil could have laughed. Patton was still Patton, and he couldn’t be happier about that fact. 

“Virgil?” He pushed his thoughts away-both the good and bad- biting back a smile to avoid confusing the man in blue further. 

“I’m fine Risus, really. I probably just need to get some more sleep.” The anxious persona sighed, heading over to the stairwell. As an afterthought, he gestured to the next room where he hoped Roman still was. “He is a prince, by the way. Messing with him just amuses me.”

Risus grinned, more mischievous looking than what Virgil was used to. “Right. Well, you go rest. I’ll set our guest up with a room.” He clasped his hands together, rubbing them as he disappeared from the Grey Prince’s view.

The young man made his way upstairs in the dark, the light well and truly gone now, until he reached his bed. Flopping down, he closed his eyes, his last thoughts settling on the hope that he would return the next night.

_Please. I don’t want leave. Please, Roman._

_•••_

His eyes opened again, even though Virgil had only just let them shut. He was back. He was Anxiety again. He wished that wasn't the truth.

The purple duvet clung to his legs, had he moved in the night? He didn't know, didn't care. All he cared about was burrowing under said duvet in an attempt at avoiding everyone and everything all day until he could forget about this world again.

Virgil didn't want to face the one person who unknowingly held his entire happiness in his hands. Or did Roman know? Would he be cruel, would he be unfeeling, ripping away what he knew gave Virgil joy while a patronising smile graced his oh-so-perfect features? Fuck him.

_I hope he didn't figure it out. Oh god, I hope he didn't remove me._

He should have refused to let Roman stay with him, he should have pushed him into the lake and left him with whatever the hell it was the prince magically put in there. He should have left him in that alleyway where they had met, keeping his identity hidden, keeping himself safe. But he didn't. He just had to be the prince, didn't he? Because in Avalonia, he wasn't Anxiety. He wasn't a shell of a being with stupid fears and stupid thoughts, he was a _prince_ , and a good one at that. Not all flashy swords and beaming smiles like Roman was, no- he _protects_. Or he protected- the anxious persona didn't know yet.

Virgil pushed away his musings when there was a knock on his door, much like how he pushed away all thoughts of answering it, instead opting to burrow deeper under the safety of his covers. If he could just stay here, like, _forever_ \- that would be great.

But it seemed the person at the door had no intention of giving the anxious persona any peace, rapping at the door again. When he heard it's opening creak he poked his head out, vision blurry and obscured by his fringe that hid his eyes from the unforgivingly bright world. 

Through the purple of his hair he saw... _more_ purple? And red?

Red. _Shit._

"Up and at em, Virgil, Patton needs your help."

_Shit._

"Let me warn you- I did _not_ sleep well last night, so please try not to be your usual mopey self."

_Shit shit shit-_

The figure drew closer, and Virgil kept quiet in fear of his heart abandoning ship and jumping out of his mouth. He definitely wasn't too scared to try speaking. Nope.

Then suddenly he saw the light. The harshly bright one hanging from the ceiling, that is. His fringe had been lifted out of the way, and- oh. _Shit._

 _“Hello?_ Earth to Brad Pitiful?” Roman was leaning over him, and because of his - _now that he looked back on it_ \- stupid decision to hide under his duvet, the anxious persona had no chance of escape. “Are you with us?

_Hey, guy who I just didn’t want to see today. How are you?_

For some reason, Virgil felt that kind of answer wasn’t exactly the best approach. And Logan said he wasn’t logical. 

Feigning sleep was out of the picture, he knew he probably looked like a deer caught in some headlights, frozen to the spot. He fought off the blush that threatened to paint his cheeks and spread down his neck from the embarrassment, eyes wide in fear he had no chance of masking.

But he had to, didn't he? There was still a chance that he could return.

”Roman? Sorry- yeah, I’m coming.”

And if there was a chance, then he was going to bloody well act his socks to retain it. “I’ll be with you in a minute, don’t wait up.”

His fringe was dropped, but Virgil could still see the prince’s grouchy expression. He tried to offer a smile, resisting the urge to wince as it fell short, more a grimace that anything actually friendly.

They left the room together, despite Virgil’s earlier words, and the anxious persona was content to listen to the rhythmic padding of their feet as they made their way to the communal area of Thomas’ mind. 

“I guess  _you_ slept well then? What did you do- drop all your uncomfortable feelings onto me before we went to bed last night?” It appeared Roman had other ideas. His words sunk into Virgil’s mind, making him feel heavier all of a sudden. Did he know? Was this Roman’s way of telling him that he knew Virgil had been real?

“Bad dream?”

The anxious persona swallowed, inwardly cursing the way his words came out breathless. If the prince noticed his falter, he didn’t mention it.

”That’s the thing, it was a _good_ dream. I crafted the world myself- I was _royalty_ , for Crofter’s sake. But despite all that-“ Roman shot Virgil a glance, one that sent his mind spinning with fear, hoping against all hope that accusations weren’t about to be flung his way. “-I still woke up feeling as if I hadn’t slept a wink.”

They reached the sofas, where Patton was sat, him not yet noticing their presence. “Coffee is currently my best friend, but I’m still zombie-like enough to be willing to bite your head off if you bug me and I _will_ claim it to be an accident.”

He flashed a grin Virgil’s way that had too much wildness and not enough sincerity, before striding away- to find Logan, maybe? The anxious persona couldn’t see him sat with Patton.

”Virgil!” He had been spotted, and now had no option but to participate in whatever project the moral persona had decided to engage in this time. He made his way over, knowing that neither of them cared that he was still in pyjamas- what, they were comfy- and fell back onto the sofa to see what Patton was doing.

He recieved a smile, less mischievous than the one his counterpart had given him but Virgil imagined him to be there anyway, giving Patton longer hair with tints of blue in his mind.

It suited him. Virgil wondered if he’d see it again.

•••

”Patton? Anything else?”

As Virgil re-entered the room he brought himself to a halt, firstly to take in the sight of the moral persona asleep, and then to hide the smile that threatened to bloom on his face at said sight. 

“So we’re done here then?” He heard footsteps approaching, but the voice was too calm, too neutral, to be Roman’s so he knew it wasn’t the one persom he had been trying his best to avoid all day. Logan reached his side, also pausing to watch the moral persona’s sleeping form. He didn’t hide his smile however, and though it was small, it was definitely there. Virgil wondered what kind of a person that made him, if even Logic could show a smile when he couldn’t.

Logan continued, though Virgil hadn’t answered his question. “It’s late. No wonder he fell asleep.” The anxious persona was only half listening, instead choosing to imagine Captiosus in Logan’s place, purple robes and all. “....should all go to sleep.”

Right. Sleep. Virgil didn’t know wether to be happy about that or not. Could he hope? _Should_ he hope? Was seeing Roman’s kingdom again too much to ask for, was seeing the others again too big of a wish?

He didn’t even notice Logan rousing the moral persona and the two of them leaving the room. Only when the lights around him dimmed did Virgil move his feet, stumbling along the halls back to his room. As he dragged his feet his mind started to twist, his thoughts starting to clamour as he neared the moment of his happiness- or his demise.

_Yes. No. Yes or no?_

The darkness of his room seemed to mock him, reminding him of the good and the light and _everything_ he agonisingly lacked to have in the waking world. The jet black nothingness - _because that's all he had, wasn't it?_ \- enveloped him much like how the king of his dreams was enveloped in his cape of shadows, like how his onix eyes encased all feeling within.

Laying down, he forced himself to remain still. His duvet was too heavy, the pillow was too hard, nothing was right.

_But it could be._

_Let it be alright Roman. Please. Let it be alright._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we again kiddos! If you liked it or have any feedback, please drop me comment! If there's anything in particular you wanna see, lets me know! But no promises ;)


	5. Ruby red relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am not my own
> 
> For I have been made new
> 
> Please don't let me go
> 
> I desperately need you”
> 
> -Meteor Shower, Owl City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It all comes down to this kiddos ;)
> 
> Leave a comment with your thoughts if you want! Flo x

**Ruby red relief**

 

It was all too similar. His back felt as stiff as it had been when his eyes first closed, and the duvet was heavy, stifling even.

Dare he open his eyes?

“Virgil, come on.” That was also similar- where he heard that before? Oh. Right. Yesterday morning from the one and only creative persona himself. “I slept horribly, don’t make me ask you again.”

Too similar, too similar- _this was it._

What little hope that Virgil had foolishly held in his heart was ripped out, taking a piece of him with it. Roman was here to wake him _again_. He had slept- _dreamless_ \- and now Patton would need his help, _again_.

Never again would he see the blue in Risus’ hair, or his unnervingly mischievous grin. Never again could he trace the mink fur that ruffled Captiosus’ neck as he stood up straight, even more so than the logical persona himself.

“How can you be the Grey Prince of Avalonia from your bed? Come _on_ , Virgil.”

Wait. _Wait_.

The anxious persona opened his eyes, gaze holding the prince regarding him with a look- was that exasperation, or humour? Virgil was too relieved to care.

”Ah,” the scarlet prince smiled. “He lives.”

He wanted to laugh, to dance, _to cry_ \- but he settled for burying his beaming face into his pillow, feigning a yawn so the other prince wouldn't be alerted to how fucking _happy_ he was. He was here. 

_He was here. He was in Avalonia._

Wether Roman knew he was real or not- Virgil didn't care. All he cared about was the fact that the creative persona had granted _him_ , _the anomaly_ , the right to remain another day. He kept what he hadn't meant to create, and for that Virgil couldn't be more thankful. The grey prince sat up, watching as Roman went to leave.

He was thankful, so that's why he did what he did. "Roman? I... I wanted to apologise."

The prince paused where he was at his place by the door, his retreating form stepping back into Virgil's line of view. "For what?"

Yesterday... wasn’t the best day for me. Nevertheless, I was more than a little grouchy towards you, and that wasn’t very fair.” 

Roman, like the annoying little shit he was, merely grinned. No matter. It wasn’t going to ruin his mood.

”Look, I’m- I’m sorry. Can we, I don’t know, start again?”

The scarlet prince laughed then, and Virgil could feel his ears growing hot, fuck- they were probably as red as Roman’s sash was. “Only if you can bear to admit that I’m a better prince.” 

Virgil pulled himself up, smiling gently at the telltale creak of the familiar floorboards beneath him. “Sure, fine. You’re infinitely better in every way, I’m weak and feeble in comparison... you get the idea.”

Roman’s grin only grew, a pleased glint in his eye as he leaned on the door. He wore different robes today, slightly shorter, but just as obnoxiously colourful.  Somebody had opened his draping curtains, allowing the ruby beams of the sunrise to fill up the room, casting everything in its path, especially the princes, in it’s warm glow. Much like when they were riding towards the castle, Virgil wondered wether Roman did it on purpose.

”Hey, maybe that’s the title for you. _Virgil the weak_. Has a lovey ring to it, don’t you think?”

One pointed look his way and the prince was leaving, calling back to Virgil as he headed down the stairs. “Be quick, weakling. We’re hunting today.”

_Hunting? When did I-_

“Oh, shit.” 

•••

The two of them rode near the back of group, by the kings request. Virgil could just tell that Roman had been about to open his mouth and complain- so he dragged him off before he could even get a word in. 

“ _But it’s a hunt_ ,” he had said, eyes flashing as Virgil pulled him to the end of line where he had _already_ tied their horses. 

“ _And you think you’ll catch anything when you’re dressed that brightly, do you?_ ” He remembered Roman’s offended face, but nothing was said after that. 

So now the two of them rode, Virgil content to merely watch the group ahead scanning the forest, his mind for once in a state of calm.

It truly was beautiful during the day.

Clouds hardly came to Avalonia, the sky always a seemingly happy shade of blue- and the rain came even less. That should have been a sign to the grey prince- a sign that someone else was involved. A certain creative someone.

But no matter- he knew now, and it had become startlingly easy to notice all the little changes that Roman had applied. There was the change in the royal uniform, no longer did the dukes wear shades of periwinkle and lilac to match their ruler, instead opting for various shades of colour that contrasted well with the green of the forest around.

Everything was vibrant and wonderful. Except for him, of course. Roman had let him remain grey, and he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

The guards had changed too, each person was unique- wether it be their eyes, hair, or even the expressions on their faces. They were no longer a protective wall but more like individual bricks, each one with their own story to tell, each one with their own lives to lead. The captain of the guard had changed most of all, the only thing more memorable than the gem studded sword resting on her side being her vibrant smile- something she graced her officers with frequently. Virgil had never spoken to the woman before this day- he had never had the reason to. 

But now she was more than a shadow, more than a pawn in this chess game where Roman and he were the knightly figures that stood proudly, front and centre as they defended the royals above  their station. Now she was a woman, a woman that _existed_ , even if it was only in a dream. So Virgil would talk, because he too was a figure that only existed in this reality- even if he did know the truth.

But as beautiful the forest was during the day, at night-

Well, he had never seen it at night. Never seen _any_ of Avalonia at night.

The grey prince snuck a glance, watching Roman ride at his side as they trekked deeper into the lush greenery. Did he not know either? Would either of them  _ever_ know?

He tried, but just couldn’t imagine all the colours around him being lost to the dark, the pitch black rolling over the world in thin waves until it built up and masked everything bright and good. The blue in the sky would be replaced, the jade of the forest destroyed. Alright, maybe he could imagine it. That doesn’t mean he wants it.

”Okay, spill.”

Roman’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the day, to the here and now. The prince’s gaze was on him now, their positions switched. “You’ve been eying the trees like there are little fairies flying around that you can only see if you stare at them like an idiot. What’s up with you?”

”Didn’t you do any research before coming here? There _are_ fairies, dummy.”

Well, he wasn’t going to tell him the truth. It was only natural to want to lie. Roman didn’t seem to have any trouble lying to him.

”Wow. No wonder you were staring- they’re beautiful.“

_Wait, what?_

His eyes followed where Roman was pointing to, eyes alight with awe and downright wonder. The breath caught in his throat, and he struggled with the urge to shove the scarlet prince off of his horse. 

_No. He didn’t._

But he had. A faint humming-like sound could be heard from near the trunks of the surrounding trees, and he saw small flashes of colour darting around in the air, contrasting with the green of the forest more wonderfully than the king’s court ever could hope to.

They were too far away to make out bodies and faces, but Virgil still felt a twist in his gut- he wished more than anything that he could do what Roman could. He wished he could create, invent, design all these wonderful things like _he_ could, but no. All he was good for was holding the dreamer back.

The grey prince didn’t even realise that both their horses had stopped, the rest of the group disappearing into the greenery as Roman dismounted and made his way over to the glowing lights.

”Roman, what are you doing?”

”Oh, you know, I’m just going to fight a dragonwitch- what does it _look_ like I’m doing?”

He held up a hand, but the fairy he was looking at danced mere inches out of reach, and the musical laughter that Virgil could hear was enough to get him slipping of his horse as well, moving to stand near the scarlet prince’s side.

 _Incredible_. Roman grinned as if he could hear his thoughts. _Just incredible_.

The fairies, not Roman. Of course.

A pair of lights, glowing gold in the beaming sun’s rays, whirled round his head. Virgil couldn’t help the laugh that burst from his lips as he twisted, eyes refusing to look anywhere but the beauty in front of him. He stumbled blindly forwards as the fairies danced away from his form, their laughter that rang in his ears  becoming the only thing he could hear- the only thing he _wanted_ to hear as they went. They were so _close_ , so much so that if he just reached out a little further-

“ _Virgil_!” Hands gripped his, yanking him backwards and away from the golden dancers that fluttered ever so sweetly, hands out towards him, they wanted him to go to them- he _had_ to go to them-

“Virgil, _stop_!” His head was shoved downwards harshly, bringing his eyes away from the enticing glow of the fairies in front of him and down to his feet. Oh.

He was standing at the edge of a steep bank, more like a cliff than anything else. And at the very bottom sat sharpened rocks that stirred the rushing waters of the waiting river, the entire scene looking like the mouth of a great monster. He wouldn’t have survived the fall.

He heard the fairies again, their laugher morphing into high pitched snarls that rung painfully loud in his ears. When Roman pulled at his arms again he was more than willing to follow, eyes focusing on anything but the sight he had been so enraptured by mere moments ago. The dirt covered floor, the contrast of his and Roman’s outfits, colour easily outshining grey, and their entwined hands, each gripping as tightly as the other as they walked away from the still snarling creatures.

”You didn’t tell me that Avalonian Fairies were evil.” Roman tried to keep his voice light. It didn’t work- the shock and fear, now ebbing, were still fresh.

”You didn’t ask.” _I didn’t know._

The scarlet prince turned his head back, and Virgil found himself doing the same- his heart racing a little quicker as he saw the fairies for what they were. The pair’s golden glow has dimmed significantly, allowing the two princes to at last see their pointed teeth, the greyness of their skin and the unnerving black pools that were their eyes. They stared, unblinking, and Virgil turned his head back around, preferring to seek out the group in favour of losing himself deeper into those empty irises.

”Over there.”

Roman was pointing to the left of them- when had he let go of his hand? Virgil followed his direction of sight and saw mulpitle figures approaching. The group. 

Captiosus was the first to reach them, the immediate frown that overtook his face causing an unsettling feeling to take place in his stomach. He really did look different without the glasses.

”Are the two of you alright? You look rather shaken.” His words attracted the gazes of the remaining members of the party, and great- now everyone was looking at them. 

Now Roman would have another thing to lord over him, first his apparent fear of water, and now _this_ \- would he ever catch a break? With Roman around, and here to stay, it didn’t seem likely at all.

Despite the fact that he had just saved his life, the creative persona continued to be a thorn in his side. He may as well return the favour.

”Oh, we’re fine. I just had to chase after Roman here- he couldn’t help but get lost.”

The crown prince’s gaze left Virgil and swept over to the man at his side. “Stay with Prince Virgil next time. We’re here to hunt, not to be a search party.”

He spoke before Roman could even protest again Virgil’s words- something that the grey prince enjoyed very much.

Captiosus glanced back at Virgil once, and he caught sight of the small smile he had sent his way before the prince turned around, the time for talking over.

Virgil followed, leaving Roman behind. It was time to have a conversation with the guards, one that in his mind, was well overdue.

•••

The group has reached the castle, the sun beginning to slip away, taking Virgil’s happiness with it as it gradually disappeared behind the trees of the forest they had just retreated from.

Virgil had not yet reconvened with the scarlet prince that matched the colours of the shrinking sun’s rays with annoying ease, instead riding with what he considered to be much more pleasant company.  

The captain of the guard, or _Edith_ , as he had learned she was called, couldn’t have possibly been older than eighteen, and if her smooth face and wide eyes didn’t make it clear, then one would only have to listen to her excited rabble for a few minutes to become certain of the fact.

But as they travelled together in the centre of the group- Roman was stuck alone at the back, and refused to join Virgil, despite the crown prince’s earlier words- Virgil could see how deserving she was of her position. She carried herself with an air of grace, yet it portrayed so much strengh that the grey prince was glad she was on their side.

One hand always resting on the bejewelled sword at her side, her eyes- no matter how childlike they seemed- were constantly scanning, forever assessing the world around them. She was as calculating as she was kind. No wonder Captiosus had deemed her worthy of the position as his right hand.

And now they were parting, it being her duty to accompany the king and his son back inside the safety of the castles walls, while it was Virgil’s duty to begrudgingly put up with the unwanted prince in his accommodation.

But it appeared he was freed, Roman was disappearing from sight, riding away from the group as night drew ever closer. Virgil tried to ignore the fear and worry settling and making a home in his chest. He really did try.

”Virgil?” He turned when his name was spoken, the enthusiasm something he was used to, the person he was not. 

He blinked at Edith’s dimmed smile, the usual sun that made it shine reluctant to show it’s face. “Yes?”

”I meant to ask before, is the scarlet prince alright?”

He saw Edith’s questioning face, and Roman’s retreating figure flashing into his mind, leaving as soon as he got the chance. His stomach sunk lower.

_Did I go too far? Is this it?_

"I-I think so?”

A laugh. But not one directed against him. “You don’t sound so sure, Virgil.”

”I’m not his _keeper_ ,” he protested, and the grin shooting his way only grew wider. “Well, I kind of am..."

_‘Stay with Prince Virgil next time.’_

He remembered Captiosus’ words, and took a few hasty steps backwards as if the dimming light could hide his flushed cheeks.

"Shit. I am, aren’t I?”

”Yep! You’re like a dad now, or some wizened old man teaching new princes your wizened old ways.”

Their laugher might have brought stares, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He silently thanked the blonde girl by his side, like this he could almost- _almost_ forget the twisting feeling in his stomach. “You’re only a few years younger than me!”

She stepped back, head turning for a moment when her name was called- Captiosus was waiting. “And yet you’re already so grumpy and mature. How do you do it?”

Virgil smiled, unforced and freely. It was nice, here was someone that he didn’t have to pretend around, someone who didn’t require a persona of lies to talk to.

“By ignoring those below me. Goodnight.” 

Here was something new. 

“Goodnight, Grandpa.”

Here was a friend.


	6. A sacrificial story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm scared to chase what I've been dreaming- beyond a want and now I need it."
> 
> -StopRewind, Natewantstobattle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have some backstory its half-decent i promise *sweats*

**A sacrificial story**

 

The next time Virgil retuned to the dream, waking up in his room, Roman wasn't there. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

He rose, dressed, and was about to head down the stairs when something caught his eye. Something... shiny?

The scarlet prince really did change things everywhere he went. Hanging on the plain grey wall was a silver mirror, just big enough to let Virgil see his eyeshadow free face staring back at him. Well, not that it made much difference- despite the amount of sleep he had been getting recently, the bags under his eyes refused to go away, if anything they had gotten worse.

_Wait... was that?_

He turned his head to the side, lifting the coloured locks of his hair for a better look. 

An earring. _An earring_. So, it wasn't enough that Roman was taking the world that he loved and spinning it on it's head until nothing looked the same- _yes_ , he agreed with some changes, but that wasn't the _point_. He also felt the need to change Virgil? Was it possible that the two princes shared a common goal, to live- no, _to escape_ to a new world in an effort to leave the troubles of waking hours behind?

...No. Roman didn't need that. Not like _he_ did. He couldn't.

The grey prince huffed, pouting as he let his hair fall until it hid his eyes, the purple a curtain that covered the brown, and made his vision blurry. He was a silouhette, an outline of a prince that Roman would get to colour in.

He pushed his hair back without a second thought. If he left it how it was- how _Anxiety_ would leave it- Roman would change it, or worse, he would recognise him. Virgil wanted to laugh, he never thought he would live in a world where keeping the right to style his own hair would be so difficult to maintain. As he reached for the earring again, the green of the gem and the gold beneath it sparkled in the mirror's reflection of the early morning light. It wasn't so bad, he decided. 

 _At least he hasn't tried to give me freckles yet_.

•••

"Oh good. You’re awake.”

Those words left Virgil with a chilling sense of unease as he sat down at the table, his housemate nowhere in sight- leaving him alone. With Roman. 

Just- just _great_.

The creative persona was just standing there and regarding Virgil with a look he didn’t even begin to know how to describe, which did nothing to help the nerves that only increased as the silence stretched out. The tension could have been cut with a knife, but it was suddenly shattered with the harsh scraping of the chair furthest from the grey prince being pulled out. Roman sat, eyes never leaving Virgil, boring into him as he refused to look back. 

“Sleep well?” Stupid, _stupid_. Roman's eyes were hooded with half-rings of purple tinted blackness like his own, yet nowhere near as noticeable. He knew Roman- and he knew how grouchy he could get even more. Screw these fantasy worlds- if there’s no coffee, what’s the point?

But his point was, he was a stupid idiot because Roman obviously hadn’t slept well, and he was obviously not in the mood for small talk. His pursed lips and hooded eyes were enough proof of that.

"No. Not particularly.” Virgil didn't attempt to reply, and the silence returned. 

What was going on in that prince's head? Was he mad about yesterday? Nothing even _happened_ yesterday. Nothing except-

Virgil turned in his chair, facing Roman head on. He had conjured up another sunrise full of rich hues of ruby and amber, but this time it wasn't shining on the scarlet prince's face- instead the light coming through the open window fell on the ground a little to the left of where he sat. All he would have had to do was move and he would've been bright again. But he hadn't.

"Roman, are you mad?"

When the prince didn't reply Virgil only stood, doing what he never would have dreamed of doing only mere years ago- willingly moving to sit closer and be at Roman's side. _God_ , the things he did to keep his role in the dream safe. Roman didn't move away, or even look away. he didn't answer either, and that kinda ticked Virgil off. Did _he_ have to do everything?

Virgil had changed. He was different here, more so than an earring or new clothes. No longer anxious, no longer afraid, just _him_. Just everything but Anxiety. But Roman?

Roman had stayed exactly the same. 

Still prideful, still offended easily, still the same unconsiderate persona from their waking hours. And Virgil had to accept that. 

 _This is Roman’s world, he doesn’t have to change._ The grey prince swallowed his bitterness- he _had_ to. And this refusal to speak coming from Roman’s part was annoying, sure, but Virgil only stood and moved for his cloak, pulling it over his shoulders. There was no point staying by Roman’s side if he was going to keep his mouth shut. Once his hood was up, his earring was hidden from eyes- including his own.  _The world changes for him._

"You don’t want to talk? Fine. Don’t talk.”

He turned his head as he reached the front door, though he didn’t want to, and took in the sight of the prince sitting away from his sculpted sunlight. “Risus is normally in town at this time of day, and I’m going to join him.” 

Silence. “You’re welcome to join me?”

More silence. And then, just as he reached for the door handle-

“That depends. Are you going to embarrass me again?” His voice was quiet but the words were not lost to Virgil who dropped the handle with a sigh. 

“That depends. Are you going to keep on nursing your wounded pride?” Roman’s widening eyes were like an alarm bell in Virgil’s head, telling him to stop-  _stop, he’ll get rid of you_ \- but he kept talking. He kept talking like the idiot he was.

”In the short time you have been here, you have ridiculed me, made fun of my fears, and called me _weak_.” His voice was _loud_ \- louder than Roman’s, louder than he had _ever_ been as Anxiety. “So if you can’t handle the _oh so terrible_ embarrassment I put you through in front of Captiosus then I suggest that you grow a thicker skin, because I will not stand here and watch you mope when one _measly_ insult is sent your way.”

Roman was stood now, moving forwards until he was right in front of Virgil. Only then did the anxious persona realise that he had been standing in the crafted sunlight, and the both of them were glowing softly, much like the fiendish fairies after their wickedness had been revealed for the two princes to see. 

But they weren’t _wicked_. They were just _them_. One prince of pride, and the other of pretence. What a pair, huh? 

“I _don’t_ have a wounded pride,” Roman practically snarled- backing Virgil up to the wall.

“Are you _completely_ sure about that? I wouldn’t want to go say the wrong thing and send you crying like a little _child_.”

Roman’s glare wasn’t as terrifying as Virgil had dreaded it to be, but his mind was still clamouring that he had messed up, that he’d gone and done it now, that there was no chance of return ever ever _ever_ -

“Are you coming, _Prince Virgil_?“ The creative persona was stood in the open doorway with his cloak under his arm, forgotten as he watched the grey prince instead. His eyes didn’t shine with anger in the ever rising sun, at least not completely. There was a hint of challenge burning there as well.

Virgil looked down as he pushed his hood back, if only to get away from those eyes. His fingertips brushed the cool metal on his ear, and it spurred him forwards and away from the scarlet prince that had drastically changed his life. He could hear footsteps behind him but chose not to speak, or to look back. Roman didn’t say anything either.

The silence was deafening, the road empty of life, but Virgil would take it over Roman’s voice and the sight of him sitting away from the light with dull eyes any day.

_That could have gone worse. Could have gone better, too._

_•••_

The grin flashing his way made him stand up straight, half out of suprise and half from the rush of adrenaline shooting around his body at seeing Risus again.

He hadn’t even know that the young wizard was going to be here, he had only said that to Roman as an excuse to get out of the house and away from the look in his eyes. Saying that, why had he then invited the scarlet prince to join him? It had defeated the entire purpose. It had also been complete luck that Risus had found him when he did. Virgil didn’t know how much more he could take of dealing with the moping royal alone.

”I’m glad you’re here, Verge. I need you to help me make a life starting choice.”

Two fabrics were shoved into his face, and he stepped back, into the figure behind him. Hands grabbed shoulders, and he turned to apologise only for the words to die young in his throat when he saw who it was.

" _Watch it_.” Roman yanked him back further and out of his way, his hands sliding back to his sides as soon as Virgil was upright again. He was clenching them into fists and letting the relax again, but Virgil pretended not to notice.

Risus pretended not to notice him either, his arms shooting forwards to hold up the fabrics in his face once more.

"These colours look the same- and what did you mean? Life starting?"

Although the scarlet prince was no longer looking his way, Virgil couldn't help but glance away from the fabrics. Whether it was cause of the animosity, fear or even the curiosity that he felt, he didn't know- but his eyes were drawn to Roman all the same. He was looking at the fabrics and at the stalls around him with a face of pure wonder that he did little to hide. 

But of course he looked like that. This was his first time seeing this part of the world in motion. The world that he had created for himself. 

“Virgil?”

He pointed to the cloth in Risus’ left hand, turning away from the scarlet prince before the feeling in his chest could blossom into something real, something that would spike enviously up and out of his mouth, destroying the fragile middle ground they had seemed to find.

_It’s all for him._

”That one. It’s less tacky.”

His friend pulled the cloth closer for inspection, and grinned Virgils way.

”You have a good eye- I didn’t even _notice_ that one of these was  _fake_.” He pushed the reject in Virgil’s direction. “I don’t know how I missed it, look, the way it shines in the light is nowhere _near_ as appealing as the real thing.”

”Right.” Virgil swallowed. Was Roman doing this? Acting childish and shoving their differences in his face?

And if he was- did that mean he _knew_?

The fake was discarded, the remaining piece purchased.

The three of them walked amongst the stalls, Roman leading the way with excitement glimmering in his eyes. Virgil tried not to notice, choosing to focus on his other companion instead. 

”What’s the fabric for, anyway?”

“It’s for the Chorus Aeternam- wait, what am I doing? I never got you any material!” Risus’ easy smile was replaced with a sheepish grin, and he backtracked his steps before Virgil could even begin to voice his protests. “Stick with Roman, I’ll catch up with you!”

”Risus, _wait_ \- and he’s gone.”

The grey prince stayed, watching the crowd that his friend had disappeared into, making no effort to locate Roman. Alas, Roman found him anyway.

”That’s the second time this ‘ _Chorus Aeternam_ ’ thing has been mentioned. What even is it?” 

Roman already knew- he already knew _everything_ , did he _have_ to go through this?

“It’s a yearly celebration for all the rich citizens in Avalonia,” Virgil began, unable to miss Roman's pleased smile. “On the anniversary of the Amythest Knight’s death.”

In the loud, bustling market, he could still hear Roman’s gasp. He got a sense of unease from that- what was he planning? What had he written into the story that Virgil had unknowingly entered.

_I hope Roman hadn’t planned to kill my character off._

If Roman was the player, it seemed to Virgil that the knight was one of his more important pieces- but of course Virgil had to waste breath telling him anyway. Bastard.

”A knight? What was he like?”

”I’m afraid I don’t know. His sacrifice took place at the climax of a great battle more than fifty years ago, just before King Owain came into power after his father died- in the very same conflict.”

Roman nodded, eyes gleaming. As he turned at sat on a bench away from the bustling crowds, Virgil prided himself for managing to sound even a _little_ like he cared. He moved to sit at the scarlet prince’s side when he raised his head higher to look at Virgil expectantly. The grey prince wanted to laugh- as he sat he grew colder. His half of the bench was draped with shade while Roman, of _course_ , continued to glow, his skin kissed by the midday sunlight.

_You know, it’s things like this that make me feel like this role was made for me._

“And what was the war against- or do you not know that either?”

He smiled, ignoring Roman’s jab like it was second nature- which to be fair, it kind of was, just not in _this_ world.

”Since the dawn of time, the light and the darkness in this world have been opposed. Always equal, they continued to fight- until the darkened evil gained the upper hand.” It all sounded a little ridiculous to Virgil, even as he was saying it- it all seemed uncannily like a bedtime story. But Roman had moved closer, eager to hear more, so Virgil retreated further into his shade before continuing. 

“The darkness was growing in power- it was now able to appear during the day, even when the light was at it’s strongest.”

A pause. Roman seemed enraptured. “They came to be known as _Shadows_ \- but they were not normal shadows, no, these entities of darkness could change people’s _entire_ temperaments, until they too became an agent of evil. They even corruped beings of light- like the fairies, using their _light_ against us.”

”And this _knight_ of yours- he sacrificed himself to stop these ‘shadows’?”

”Indeed. He willingly accepted them,  it before they could corrupt him he sealed their powers away into a great quarts stone that used to rest where the king’s throne room now stands. And that quarts was-“

”An _amythest_ ,” Roman finished for him, almost breathlessly.

“Yes,” Virgil nodded. “Now everyone- no matter their rank- carries a piece of that amythest in some shape or form. That reminds me-“

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a shining silver pendant that held a piece of the aforementioned stone. The metal looked dull compared to the gem- which seemed to contain a swirling mist, making the precious stone darker than it was originally intended to be- but if it bothered Roman that much he could snap his fingers and change the chain himself. As he held it up the offcut of amythest spun, reflecting light into the hand of the prince who reached to take it. “You need one of these. Even though nowadays Shadows are mere nuisances, this will stop them from getting in your way.”

”Thank you, Virgil,” the scarlet prince murmured, donning the jewellery with a smile. His gaze moved from his stone to rest on Virgil’s chest, where he knew his own pendant lay. “How come yours is darker than mine?”

He chuckled. “There’s no reason to be jealous, Roman.” He stood, beckoning the prince to follow him. “It looks like this because it contains more dark energy, so that I would be able to fight more powerful Shadows- if there ever were any.” 

He glanced back to witness the pettish, almost childlike look on Roman’s face as they headed back into the vibrant  throngs of people that were teeming with noise and life. “Huh. I guess there is reason for you to be jealous then. My bad.”

”Well, enough of that- what’s taking Risus so long?” He wanted to laugh again at Roman’s change of subject, but he too was wondering where his friend had gone. “I know the market well enough now, l we’ll spilt up to look for him.”

”Right.” _You know the market well enough because you designed it yourself._ “Don’t get lost.”

“Awe, Virgil,” Roman found the need to coo at him as he began to be surrounded by the ravenous market sellers, all of which beckoned to him with sharp smiles and gleaming eyes. “Do you care?”

Virgil just called to him, moments before the scarlet prince became lost from his sight. “Only in your dreams, Roman.”

And then the Prince was alone in the sea of buyers and sellers, walking briskly in search of a shining head of violet and blue.

He wanted to give his full attention- but the confusion that filled him had other plans. His mind screamed with the wish that things could be less complicated, that he and Roman would just like- _or_ _loath_ \- each other, instead of this feeling of opposition that seemed to come and go as it pleased. 

The prince had left him, teasing, smiling, and if Virgil pushed it he might even say that Roman had been borderline _friendly_. And yet before that there had only been silence, before that only the sight of hostile eyes burning into him because of one offhand insult sent his way. How could he figure Roman out?

The grey prince didn’t know where to start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Flo xx


	7. Loathing is no longer an option for us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Every night I be crying myself to sleep, knowing that you want nothing to do with me.
> 
> But you keep me as a piece in your game, all I really want is peace in this place.”
> 
> -Best of me, BooCocky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is shorter! I’m preparing to travel, so time is short at the moment. Hope this is still alright!

**Loathing is no longer an option for us**

 

He never did find Risus, and as the day drew to a close he and Roman returned to the house in a silence that the grey prince could only describe as peaceful. Virgil had opted to stay out front, remaining in place to watch the sun disappear behind the silouhetted castle towers until the sky either turned dark or his friend returned home.

But Virgil's reasoning went further that that. In all honesty, he didn’t want to wake up just yet.

So he stood, and he waited- and he would continue to wait until Roman forced him to leave his sword and title and _life_ behind, in favour of his real one. Because what else could he do? It’s not like he _could_ do anything else. It’s not like he could _choose_ to stay asleep.

Roman stayed with him again, and that’s how Virgil had ended up where he was now- leaning on the edge of his porch with a second prince resting leisurely at his side. Together they witnessed the casual setting of the sun, and Virgil briefly wondered if Roman could control that too. Was he making the sunset last this long? Or was it fate, smiling kindly for the first time since the new prince’s arrival? 

He didn’t want to question it. He was happy enough just watching the amber fire dimming slowly behind the skyline, and it seemed Roman was too- because the scarlet prince was smiling. Really, _really_ smiling.

Here it came again. That insistent sense of caution that masked a balance. One that could be easily tipped- but a _balance_ all the same. Virgil hated it. 

Maybe he hated it so because he could no longer despise the prince who had caused it to become a reality. Virgil could no longer say with the whole of his heart supporting him that he wanted Roman to leave- to leave as the Crimson Sword of Gondwana and never come back. Maybe he just wanted the two of them to get along, properly, not whatever this guarded companionship that had sprung up between them was.

Maybe... he didn't know what he wanted. 

The castle was now shielding all of the suns rays, leaving the two of the them in a murky light. The grey prince supposed that this was the closest he would ever get to seeing this world at night time. Complaining was useless- he was thankful for what he already had. But it wouldn't stop him from wishing anyway. Nothing could.

Virgil glanced Roman's way, and the sight of him all draped in impure light brought back memories of the morning hours before- Roman really did look different, almost helpless without the sun to make him glow. In a weird way, he looked like the King, covered in his cloak of chilling violet darkness.

However Roman didn’t quite unnerve him like Owain did. That dude was plain creepy.

”Prince Virgil?” 

Shoot. He had zoned out again, and now he was probably staring at Roman like an idiot. At this rate he was going to get removed without even revealing who he really was. The grey prince managed a grimace, cringing under his companions confused gaze. He would have stepped back- but he was at the corner of the porch, unable to move away from the unnervingly dull eyes of the prince in front of him. “Is everything alright?”

He looked away- _why hadn’t he just done that in the first place?_ \- back out to the dark structure that stood proudly ahead, a solid, grounding foundation that never seemed to change unlike the ever evolving world around it. It was almost anchor like- something that Virgil could stand by and watch with as the wave of change swept everything else in existence away, back to the depths of Roman’s imagination.

He wished he was there, instead of this house, on this porch, with this prince.

He was here though, and he was hyper aware of the royals eyes on his form- waiting for an answer that he had no idea how to give.

_Divert. Distract. Change the subject._

Roman went to speak again.

_Lie._

“It’s just been a long day. I had to babysit you, didn’t I?”

The scarlet prince grinned- not the reaction Virgil was expecting, but he’d take it- and leant nearer to his side. 

“So that’s how you really see me? I’m glad to know your honest opinion of me.” The smile on his face was firm, the challenge that Virgil had spotted earlier in the day making a reappearance, burning in his eyes as brightly as the missing sun had been. “Because now I’m determined to make you see differently.”

This was better. This rivalry that the prince next to him offered could be dealt with. He dreaded to even think of a day that Roman might smile at _him_ without it.

A weak laugh fell from his lips. He was tired. “Whatever you say, Prince Roman.” The murky light seemed stiffiling now, he felt he had to leave. Virgil didn’t want to wake up- he never wanted to wake up- but he couldn’t stand here and watch the sun fade away with Roman like this anymore. He couldn’t stand here anymore and pretend he was fine- he wasn't _fine_ - because as much as he was glad to be able to watch the sunset- 

Virgil would never be allowed to see the moon.

 

Waking up felt bittersweet.

A day had passed, all it taking to bring him back being a mere twenty four hours enduring the harsh reality of the real world. The returning sun’s rays seemed to mock him as they flitted over his face, stopping him from dozing in his room for as long as he’d like. Because, _hell_ \- he wanted to doze forever if it meant avoiding seeing Roman. But at the same time- he couldn't restrain the smile that pulled up his cheeks and took over his entire face. Each day was a new start. He could forget about yesterday, about all the arguments, the laughter, the smiles that had taken place; they were now things of the past.

Virgil didn't know how long he would have here, and while he hoped he had forever, past disappointments and simple common sense just had to tell him otherwise.

There was no way of staying here permanently. Virgil had learnt by now not to wish for impossible things, and this was the most impossible of them all. Pretence was the only way- even if it wasn't a permanent fix, and it filled him with anxiety and fear and horrible reminders of dark faces, ones that haunted his past and stifled his present. He never was the optimistic type- it wasn't really part of his job description- so he believed without a doubt that there would be traces of them in his future as well, forever winding into his own life as cracked and jagged pillars that he would always base himself around, even though he didn't want to. Even though new stabilisers had entered his life in the manifestations of all that was good with the world, and all that explained it, they didn't shape him nearly as much as he wanted them to. Virgil realised that he didn't often get what he wanted.

This was something he wanted, though. He would make the most of it. He had to.

He ignored the pillars that held him up, pretending like he could live without them while heading downstairs, then outside, then all the way to the castle with a prince in tow. He was making the most of it.

"Why are we here?" Those words had been repeated to Virgil multiple times that morning, and he finally answered, in favour of not being driven insane. 

"Remember your little 'expedition' that made you miss your summoning? Well, its been rescheduled." Virgil open a door, glanced inside, and returned to Roman. He tried to hide his amusement at his discomfort, but Roman saw him smile.  _Mission failed, I guess._

 "When to?"

He pushed Roman through the door. "Now. I'll come back to get you once its over."

The door was closing, but Roman still stood watching the grey prince. He only grinned. "Don't die."

Funnily enough, that was what seemingly gave him the courage to move forwards. That definitely didn't make Virgil happy whatsoever. "You'd miss me too much."

Their connection was cut off, the door slamming before he could reply. In the echo of the corridor, if someone had been standing at the end, perhaps lost in thought, perhaps merely using up time before they had to attend to other duties, they may have heard the resounding voice of a tired prince, uttering a single word to no one, that meant nothing to anybody except one. But there was no one there. He was entirely alone in that shade filled corridor, avoiding the sunlight not out of fear, but of habit as that was what the creator of the world had intended him to do. Nobody saw his brow furrow either, as he was surprised by what he has said, as he didn't understand how, or why he felt the way that he did.

Nobody saw him sigh, or saw his shoulders droop a little as he walked away from the door where he had led the prince that stayed with him. Nobody saw him leave. Nobody saw where he went.

Virgil was glad for that. He was.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments or kudos would always be greatly appreciated, it’s what keeps me writing!
> 
> Flo x


	8. These dark doors hold darker secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You're dripping like a saturated sunrise, you're spilling like an overflowing sink.
> 
> You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece, and now I’m tearing through the pages and the ink.”
> 
> -Colors, Halsey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a particular favourite of mine.

**These dark doors hold darker secrets**

 

Few things really left Virgil speechless. Few things ever got the chance.

First, the day he came to be. In his beginning, his creation where dark ideas and uncomfortable feelings had come together to make _Anxiety_ , he had not yet learnt what it meant to put up his guard. To protect, and to defend. He had the innocence of a child- for he was a child. Virgil hadn’t yet known what he had to be, what would be expected of him, all he knew was that he was here. Out of an empty space, out of nothing, _he_ existed. He was _something_.

It astounded him.

Of course, once reality introduced itself and Virgil learnt his purpose it all became less novel, less ideal. He was there to make his host unhappy, that was what the others implied. The others, the horrible, terrible others that were born of the same emptiness as he, the others that would come to shape his outlook and save him from mistakes. Because that’s what they said they were doing- saving him. Even now, even after all this time with the good people that were made of things much better than he, they still shaped him. He hated himself for it.

The second time, he had left the others to be with the good people in his life. The darker sides were still there- of course they were, he was one of them. He had decided that his existence was unfair, for he was too _good_ for the others, but too _bad_ for the better sides.They has never explicitly told him that but Virgil didnt need them too- he knew how it was, how the story was supposed to go. So the only place left for him was his room, a place of colour- muted, but colour all the same. It was lonely, but this was easier to bare.

It was easier to bare until all three of the good people disturbed the peace with their personalities, including Thomas, who simply looked a mess. He looked as lost as Virgil felt. 

When they explained why they were there- that they had come for him, that they were here to get him back, Virgil could only push away, could only deny their words until there were too many to fight against. He couldn’t fight, but his mind was still racing- because why would they want him? Why did they want the anomaly, the neither good or bad, the one that just didn’t belong?

They told him that he was necessary. That Thomas needed him, and that they needed him. They… wanted him back. That was the thing that finally left him unable to speak.

And then there was now.

All he had wanted to do was find a new place- somewhere that he could go to pretend he was alone in this world, instead of a guest. He knew it wouldn’t be real of course- everywhere he went would be somewhere created by Roman. But he could try, couldn’t he?

That was what had led him to the library during the time he had without Roman next to him. It felt weird, only hearing one set of footsteps, only seeing one shadow caused by the lanterns’ glow. He also had nobody to speak to, but that was a welcome change to the grey prince.

In the corner of his eye he saw the cool grey stones of the wall give way to a set of carved oak doors, and he turned to walk through without giving much thought to the matter.

He had entered the library. Wonderful.

The countless books he saw decorating the shelves were neglected save from the attention given by the odd advisior, but never the actual librarian, he was more ancient than some of the books themselves. He had no time for anything, reading material or otherwise. He had seen it all before- so he couldn’t look at any of it without imagining how happy Roman would have been while bringing it all to life, and his feet carried him onward to the back of the library, in an attempt to escape what his mind seemed desperate to torture himself with.

His feet brought him to a door that he hadn’t seen before, low hanging, carved from a darker wood.

On the front, in glossy gold letting that seemed far too fancy for such a run down door, it read one word:

 _Creations_.

The tauntingly smooth lettering was all he really needed to get himself moving inside, his past wishes cast aside. It seemed that instead of avoiding Roman, he had come to a place that was sacred to him. He could almost hear the hum in the air, the change of pressure as he stepped swiftly through the door and-

Wow. Just…. wow.

This was the third time in his existence that Virgil had been truly speechless. For now he was in awe, but he didn’t know that soon he would come to hate it, to hate all the this room stood for, how much it bared the truth that this was not his dream.

It was a room with unseeable walls, for every inch of them were covered with scarlet leather bound books, each with their number standing proudly on the spine, stamped in gold. The first book seemed to mock him, and Virgil grabbed it rougher than necessary in return. Turning only one page confirmed his fears.

_‘New idea: a fantasy world for the sleeping.’_

His head spun, the words repeating relentlessly, etching themselves into his mind as an act of defiance because he would rather hide from the truth. When had Roman written all these? If he stopped to pause, he could imagine him sat at a desk- day or night didn’t matter- slaving away at these books with an obsession to complete them. All the questions that Virgil wanted to ask had to stay hidden, he knew that much.

So instead the grey prince began pulling books down, frantically opening them to random pages to scan thewords that lay trechourusly inside, the summaries waiting to break his heart.

_‘Designs for castle- including surrounding areas.’_

_‘Origins of the Amethyst Knight.’_

_‘Backstories-families-personalities of castle guard.’_

And there were more. Many more. His thoughts were a mess; he didn’t know wether he wanted to stay and read forever- or scream and cry and tear pages away in bottled up desperation that was aching to show it’s face. He wanted to give it all up, to let the truth out, to let Roman do what he will. To end his suffering and take away what he loved before it could hurt him more.

He continued to turn pages. He had always been weak like that.  

The grey prince slowed however, when a certain title stuck out to him amongst the glistening words. Book fourty seven was entirely for Edith.

Virgil left that one where he found it.

She may have been fantasy but he still wanted to learn about her from _her_ , not from pages and ink that had been written by the creative prince’s hand, sealing her fate. It seemed that even though some of these ideas were old, they hadn’t been included to the dream until now. He wondered why- _why_ had he gone through all this trouble? Why was he this obsessed with the story of Avalonia, and it’s myths- it’s people- it’s _princes_?

_Why was he here?_

His hands stilled on a leather book. Maybe… these could tell him? His eyes scanned desperately until he found the more recent books, tugging out one that lay at the end of a shelf.

Virgil’s heart almost leapt from his chest.

_‘Origins of Prince Captiosus and Mage Risus.’_

Mage? That was new. Another late change perhaps? He looked near the top of the first page, and his lips pursed into a thin line. This book had been written _after_ he had been discovered by Virgil in that shadow filled allyway- so the scarlet prince _had_ added them because of his appearance after all.

His fingers traced the pages almost unconsciously, flipping through the pages in search of his name. Roman could have changed his as well, he could have done anything- Virgil just didn’t know. He felt that despite dreaming of him for the past few nights, he knew barely anything about the prince of Gondwana-

Wait. Wait- no- _not_ the prince. The creative persona was the real Roman. Virgil would like to think he knew him well after all the times he’s been insulted but him. At least he knew him better than the dream version. His chest suddenly grew tighter, goosebumps crawling up his arm like spiders until he jumped to his feet, shoving the books back into their places. The room had chilled, and Virgil swore that he saw his misty breath as he escaped to a secluded aisle in the almost abandoned library. It was like the room had been telling him to get out- and he wasn’t one to argue with an otherworldly, seemingly intelligent room that held his backstory, and future.

He decided there and then not to go back. The nagging fear that Roman had done something, that something bad was going to happen to the grey prince of Avalonia kept him from walking back in there and reading everything until he dropped from exhaustion.

Yeah. He didn’t want to know.

Voices startled him, and he pressed himself into the shelf in the faint hope that he could melt away into invisibility. When the voices grew no closer, he felt it was safe to assume that it wasn’t the scarlet prince, so he stepped out into view. And promptly hid again.

Captiosus was taking books off of shelves, a mundane task at best, and yet Virgil had seen a smile on his face that he had rarely seen on the logical persona.

The smile had been directed at the young man stood next to him, pointing up at the shelves that he could not reach. The grey prince peered round the edge of his shelf to get a closer look, and he almost laughed in disbelief.

Risus?

The mage looked happy too, perfecty relaxed around the crown prince. When had this happened? When had they met? And more importantly- why was Cap looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world?

“No way,” he murmured under his breath, unaware of the figure approaching him. “Roman ships Logan and Pat too?”

This was too good.

“Hey, Grandpa?”

He jumped, yelling noticeably loud, and saw the couple instantly slide away from each other. Their faces had grown cold- nothing like their happy looks from mere moments before- and their gazes were tunrning to him. Shoot. As they began to approach his direction he turned away to the voice that had hailed him instead, awkwardly clearing his throat as he did so.

He couldn’t help the smile that slid to his face.

“Edith!”

The Captain of the royal guard grinned, dimples coming out, eyes wrinkling into slits. She offered a mock salute to him.

”I’ve got a message for you, oh-so-aincent one. Roman’s done with his meeting, seems he survived the king’s evil eye.”

Just the mention of that name drew his thoughts away from the approaching people that looked like his friends, and he couldn’t help but glance back to the room labelled creation, even going as far as to imagine him writing the books again.

”Hello? Did it finally happen? Did your old man ears stop working?”

He brought his mind back to the present- where Edith was waiting- and... kneeling?

”Prince Virgil. A pleasure to see you here.”

Ah. Of course.

He spun again, back to the figures he had been spying on only moments ago. The crown prince- _Captiosus_ \- had his mouth raised ever so slightly in... Well it wasn’t quite a smile. Not like the one he showed Risus, but Virgil could relax knowing the pair hadn’t seen him. His eyebrows quirked, much like how Logan’s did when there was something he failed to understand. “Where is Roman? He is normally in your attendance, is he not?”

He turned to Risus, who Virgil could see was trying not to laugh. “I thought you said that they were-“

”I didn’t say anything, Cap,” Risus said with more cheeriness than was necessary, and a beaming smile to match. Virgil stared him down, aware of his ears darkerning red. They would be having words later.

Captiousus blinked, focus lost to Risus’ smile for a moment before seemingly understanding what he had meant. He returned his gaze to Virgil-  _eventually_ \- and as it was blatantly obvious now that the prince with the short, lavender locks would disregard his previous words as if they had never existed, Virgil took the chance to speak.

”Talking of Roman-“ he didn’t miss Risus’ suggestive smirk. Screw that guy. “-he was in a meeting with your father. I’m about to go meet him now, so please excuse me.”

Captiosus nodded, to him and to Edith who had risen from her kneel on the ground. Virgi saw her watching her prince with pride in her eyes, and wondered if she knew that the smile the crown prince wore was because of the cheery mage that stood upright at his side.

”Yes go, by all means. Edith, you are also excused... but why are you here conversing with the grey prince at this time anyway?”

She began walking away, but bowed once before slipping out the double doors. 

“I was merely playing messenger, sir.”

”Right.”

Virgil felt that she did know. “I’ll be leaving too then.”

Something pulled in his chest when he saw that Captiosus wasn’t even paying him attention anymore, too lost in the mage’s eye, to invested in his words, and he didn’t know wether it was a good, or a bad feeling.

As they disappeared, deeper into the library, Cap’s quips and Risus’ returning laughter blending together perfectly, the constricting pressure in his chest only got bigger. Yep. Definitely a bad feeling- why else would he be on the verge of tears as he made his way to the throne room where Roman would be waiting?

What was wrong with him? What was this feeling, and why did it hurt the way it did?

He suspected it’s intentions to be made of something lighter than the dark side that he was could comprehend. So it didn’t matter if it was good, it would still hurt because he didn’t- he _couldn’t_ understand what it was.

For a brief, _ridiculous_ moment of madness, Virgi considered asking Roman for help. Then the moment passed, and the tears that he had been hopelessly trying to keep in began to fall, leaving a trail of darkened spots on the cold stone floor, a trail that, if followed, would lead him right back into the mess that was the storage of Roman’s thoughts.

A trail that would lead him back to _creation_.

Not his own, not the emergence from nothing that used to fill him him with such wonder, but the creation of _this_ world, of _this_ life, the life that he loved so much more than what had truly been given in reality.  _God_ , the scarlet prince had been right.

He was _weak_.

He was weak to want help from him, he was weak to cry, and to top it all off Roman was going to see him like this. 

The grey prince, both in clothing and in heart, had reached the doors, his tears still staining the floor as he looked up to see- no one. He saw... no one?

He had come for the scarlet prince, he had come when called.

But it seemed that Roman was no longer here. 

And somehow, that felt worse than the creative persona seeing him like this. This way, Roman didn’t see- or care- at all. That much was obvious now. Forget yesterday, forget Roman’s promise to make him see differently as they watched the sunset on Virgil’s porch. The grey prince had to forget it all, because he was already used to listening to empty oaths. Deciet has given him enough of those his entire life- that he had always been _saving_ him from his weakness- and he didn’t want to _take_ anymore.

He just needed time to regain his control. It was good that the scarlet prince couldn't see him like this, his vulnerability would bring questions, and dealing with those weren’t on Virgil’s immediate to-do list.

But even though he told himself this, that it was better to be alone... his chest still hurt.

He would always hate being lonely, despite everything he could ever tell himself. Maybe- _maybe_ that was what this feeling was. 

Virgil merely sighed, and wiped the tears from his eyes before heading in the direction of his and Roman’s home.

Maybe being with Roman could be better than being alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this one gets to me. 
> 
> As always, comments are greatly cherished and appreciated. You are all the reasons why I have the inspiration to write! You, and a really good friend who is so often offering positive feedback on this story that never fails to make me smile. 
> 
> Acantha_Echo, thank you for your support, and your incredible, mesmerising stories (everyone go check her out she’s awesome)
> 
> Until the next one.
> 
> Flo xx


	9. I’m surrounded by obsidian, but all I see is you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I shouldn't say it, but I'm starting to think I care.
> 
> I've had a drink, you probably think my judgement isn't clear.”
> 
> -Hold me, Tom Odell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: okay, I have a barely started project due in five weeks, I should really write that
> 
> Brain: but dream? you really should work on dreams instead
> 
> Me: 
> 
> Me: of course

**I’m surrounded by obsidian, but all I see is you**

 

The dauntingly familiar sight of the royal structure reflecting in the water was all Virgil could bring himself to look at, as he and the scarlet prince returned from the town the next day. The sun was only just beginning to set, for now standing strong, and for that Virgil was grateful.

That was one less thing for his mind to dwell on, to turn over and over as if it was one of Logan’s problem cubes that he could solve if he only thought of it for long enough.

He wasn’t doing that with the sun, no. Probably because his mind was too busy reeling with the information that Roman had literally _written his world down into books._ But enough of that. At least it was still day, right?

“I hope you’re excited,” Roman’s voice quipped from his side, grating on his worn down nerves. He really didn’t want to go off on him, especially after they had reached some sort of stalemate, but he was making it really difficult to not want to punch his preppy voice away.

It didn’t help that this was almost the first thing that the scarlet prince had said to him today; he was acting unnaturally quiet, unnaturally attentive to the details of the world around him.

“Excited for what?” His mind was too frayed to even begin to remember- _whatever_ it was Roman wanted him to know.

At the time, he didn’t know if the sound that interrupted Roman’s reply was a blessing, a curse, or even a warning. All he did know was that it was a low, bubbling sound, and as their two horses began to make erratic moments, eyes wild, he could see the rushing river at their side begin to move with more force, pushing against the side of the worn-down bank harder than it should have.

With the panic setting in, the two prince’s made the unspoken agreement to dismount. The moment they did, their horses bolted, continuing along their current path with twice the normal speed.

“Well there goes our ride,” he found the need to say as he watched the horses gallop away, because he had to say something to Roman or he might just go mad with all his unaskable questions.

When the scarlet prince, uncharacteristically, didn’t reply, Virgil turned back to the suddenly wild riverside, windswept hair half obscuring his view.

He moved it aside.

And immediately began to shout.

_“Roman! Get away from the edge!”_

The prince in question seemed to remember that he was in fact not alone, spinning up and around from his crouched position at the bank to face Virgil with a wild grin that he didn’t understand. He said something- and the grey prince stepped closer to hear Roman’s missed words- the winds had picked up to such a degree that now the purple hair was whipping around the prince’s eyes making him look like the anxious persona, and something about that made Virgil’s stomach drop. Another step was taken. Roman had his arms out wide, still facing his way. _“Get back, Prince!”_

He looked positively crazy, hair flying back and forth in the wind with a mind of it’s own, while savagely blue water crashed at his heels- and he _still hadn’t stepped away._

“Can’t you feel it, Virgil?” His hands clenched and unclenched tightly as if he was trying to pull his creations out of nothingness. Maybe he was. “Something’s happening.” Eyes flashing, the grin that swallowed his face led Virgil to think only one thing, thoughts of dreams and suns and mages and kings and blood-red books getting pushed aside.

Roman had been waiting for this.

“The King told me yesterday- that he could sense something dangerous on Avalonia’s horizon. And Virgil- _I can sense it too.”_

Virgil knew what he meant. Right now, the air was spinning, crackling, charged with the potential of something great. Whatever it was, it was making Roman grin like a loon, shuffling on the spot he stood- which was almost off and over the edge.

That was what finally got Virgil moving- _properly_ \- running now to reach Roman’s side, to tug him desperately away before he fell like how the grey prince almost had.

“Something _big_.”

Their gazes finally met. Virgil was fucking _terrified_. Maybe he stopped to wonder for one brief second that he could be in over his head, that this was Roman he was dealing with, the creative persona that lived for danger and drama and pushing things to their absolute limit. Maybe he wondered if possibly waking up didn’t sound as bad as it did before. Maybe he wondered why the hell Roman hadn’t done this sooner, that _this_ was what he wanted- a life so incredibly different than the one he had while awake; he may have been scared out of his wits, mind and heart racing, but he was _loving it._

Maybe he never thought anything. Maybe he never thought at all.

Because all he could do was watch as a black shadow rose- it wasn’t even black, it was deeper, more _empty_ than that- curving out of the rapidly swirling waters that slammed hungrily at Roman’s heels, wrapping around his waist and outstretched arms. Time seemed to hang in the balance, the sun wasn’t moving at all, the wind had died, and the waves were sated.

Then, in the time it took to say his name, Roman was pulled under the surface.

And Virgil saw his face in that brief moment, his widening eyes, and realised that this wasn’t what Roman had been expecting. Not at all. And in the time it took to blink-

 

Virgil was awake and bolting upright, desperately gasping for seemingly much needed breath, as if he was the one who had been dragged under the water.

“ _No_ ,” he told the air with unhidden fear, staring blankly forwards to the spot where Roman would have been if he had only still been asleep. “Roman… _fuck,_ ” he pulled at the roots of his hair, throwing his head back down onto the pillow, a sigh whistling between his clenched teeth. His tired eyes drew in the dark, shadowed interior of his room; it was still night, no more than a few hours could have passed at most.

In the cold silence of his room, Virgil had three different choices.

One, leave the safety of his room and enter Roman’s, while thinking of some excuse as to why he was waking him up, if only to pull him out his crazed dream. Second, he could continue staying awake, and let Roman dream on his own, let him deal with the consequences of whatever he had done.

Even just by thinking it, Virgil knew it was never a real option.

And then there was the third, and most appealing, in the anxious personas opinion. He could fall back into sleep, and into the dream to rescue Roman himself.

As he lay, drumming his fingers absentmindedly in the purple duvet, he had to be honest with himself. He wasn’t going back for Roman, not entirely. The dream world was addictive- he hadn’t spent a night without it for who knows how long. He was much too far gone now to ever want to stay awake by choice. He would always go for the drug that Roman had unknowingly baited him with everytime.

But while he was being honest… Roman did play a part in Virgil’s current train of thought. Like he had already discovered, already realised after spiral in his mind, being with _him_ was better than being alone.

“I want to go back to sleep,” he whispered to Roman, three doors down, but also an entire dream away, to the air to which he had portrayed his horror, and to himself. His fingers ceased in their patternless dance, becoming still on the heavy material covering his chest.

His eyelids seemed to listen to his plea, drifting lower until he could see nothing but the blackness of semi-consciousness.

_“I’m going back to sleep.”_

Then suddenly he could see everything again.

 

One step. Then another. Then another. Then suddenly Virgil was falling- no he was _diving_ in the cold indigo blue, desperately following Roman. It felt less like water and more like some other thick liquid, a liquid that was alive and trying its damn hardest to hold him in place. His throat burned, he hadn’t even taken a proper breath before jumping; regret lay increasingly heavy on his shoulders as the urge to breathe grew too.

Then Virgil opened his eyes to see a blurry, swirling blackness. Okay then.

Oh, and Roman was there too, directly below him. A flash of fear ran though Virgil’s veins in place on oxygen when he saw that he wasn’t moving.

The shadow- or shadows, he couldn’t exactly tell being underwater and all, were surrounding him, moving, rippling in the depths as if it was taking a breath of its own.

It reminded Virgil of his own urge to breathe, he had almost forgotten, somehow. His head was pounding now, like there was an alarm in place telling him to hurry up, idiot. So hurry up he did, pushing through the thick, tar like feeling that he could not classify as water and grabbing what solid material he could.

Was it just the lack of oxygen making him delirious, or was the shadow laughing at him? He didn’t have the lung capacity to find out, pulling away as fast as he could, escaping to the surface and greedily gulping down lungfuls of cold, clear air. Roman was dead weight in his arms- hopefully not _dead_ weight- but eventually the grey prince managed to make it back to the bank of the river that had now found its chill, rushing fast, but not with the anger it had contained before.

The scarlet prince fell from his arms, and the dark, earthy colour of the ground made him look starkly unnatural with ashen skin. The shade would fit on Virgil- he was colourless already- but on Roman, with his bright cardinal robes, unease couldn’t help but make a home in his heart.

Even though he had been freed from the shadow’s grasp Virgil couldn’t help but think that Roman still seemed affected, still seemed connected to it though the empty shade of his cheeks.

Virgil longed for Roman to create another patch of glowing sunlight, if only to light him up again.

Panic began to rise in Virgil’s throat and he couldn’t ignore it like he ignored the cold chill that was sinking into his bones. Yes, he had told Roman the past the kingdom had shared with shadows, but after that- he was clueless. And anyway, according to that story shadows were supposed to be _harmless_ now. 

That one had been anything but- managing to touch a person, _despite_ the fact that Roman had been wearing the protective amulet that was supposed to keep the dark influences away. 

The breath caught in Virgil’s throat, as did his gaze on the prince’s chest.

The amulet wasn’t there.

_The amulet wasn’t there._

”Roman, what were you thinking?” Virgil’s hand ran over his faintly moving chest and up to his cheek without thought. A thumb dragged softly along the small space under his eye- he wanted them to be _open_.

He was so cold. His lips were so blue.

“Wake up. _Wake up_.”

The cerulean lips opened to take breath. Virgil dropped his cheek, thanking whatever thing controlled fate in this world. Then he remembered that Roman was that thing- his wish was useless.

Upon seeing the copper of Roman’s eyes Virgil removed the amethyst from his neck and gently hung it around the prince’s, who was laying on the earth, hoping beyond hope that it would return the stolen colour from Roman’s cheeks, and stop the gaze that watched Virgil so intensely he thought he might fade away.

“Virgil?” It was a scared voice that greeted him, and yet the copper of Roman’s eyes had grown warm, reminding the grey prince uncannily of liquid gold. “Virgil, what happened? He tried not to focus on the breathless way his name had been spoken, or the way that cold hands gripped his sleeve impossibly tight, instead choosing to watch Roman’s cheeks grow rufescent, tinging a wonderful, heart settling red.

”You were an idiot,” he began, the softness of his voice something that he didn’t intend, but continued to use all the same. How could he not, when Roman was watching him like that?

Like if he didn’t, he might fall all over again.

Virgil realised with a start, as he was knelt on the water-soaked earth, that it had happened. Roman was watching him without malice, or disdain, or even a hint of humour. The scarlet prince gave the tiniest of smiles, and suddenly Virgil was back at the front of his house, watching the sun slowly disappear with a second prince waiting at his side. He remembered thinking that if Roman ever smiled at him properly, without challenge, he wouldn’t know what he would do.

Well, that smile had come. At least he knew what to do know.

Arms being thrown over shoulders, he pulled the torso of the freezing prince towards him, not even caring as a chill ran throughout his body leaving the two of them shuddering. 

Roman showed no objections save for a muffled gasp that Virgil only just heard, even though the prince’s lips rested right by his ear. The warmth of his breath was welcome, as was his acceptance as the gesture was eventually returned. He could feel thin fingers twisting into the fabric on his back, and the violet quarts that hung around Roman’s neck pushed almost painfully into his chest. It could leave a bruise if it wanted. Virgil didn’t care.

They could sit there until Roman told him to let go. Virgil didn’t care.

”When I said that something was coming,” Roman began, the words on the verge of jumbling together with how much his shivered helplessly in Virgil’s arms, “I-I wasn’t expecting... _that_.”

He sneezed. Adorably.

”I could tell,” Virgil smiled into his shoulder while laughing lightly, not missing the way that Roman shuddered again, but this time it seemed to be caused by a reason other than the cold. Silence grew over them, but a comfortable one. That was probably the weirdest part of the day so far. Of course, it was eventually broken by the scarlet prince, who’s lips were no longer blue but their usual soft shade of red.

Not that Virgil knew what their normal shade was.

”We should probably return to the castle,” he murmured faintly, pulling the slightest inch away. Virgil noticed the gap. 

“Probably.”

Neither stood, until Roman sighed, tapping his shoulder. “We have a ball to get to. Wouldn’t want to disappoint, would we?”

The Chorus Aeternatum. Right. “Speak for yourself, Roman. I’d love to give it a miss.”

The laugh he gave finally pushed the thoughts of creation out of Virgil’s head completely. They would return of course, but until he could change anything, what good would the thoughts even bring?

”I’ve never known you to love anything before,” Roman casually noted, and Virgil saw him watching for his reply with eyes of molten gold. From somewhere within, somewhere that he had the strength to hold Roman’s gaze, his reply came out smooth.

”I’m learning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically 2.5k of words that didn’t really need to be said, I just wanted to build something up before the ball happened.
> 
> Knowing me, it’ll probs disappoint, crash and fail. YOLO.
> 
> As always, comments are accepted with smiles and little overly-excited laughs on my end. Have a good day!


	10. Mistakes are tainted silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Swing me these sorrows, and try delusion for a while, it’s such a beautiful night.
> 
> You’ve got to lose inhibition, romance your ego for a while, come on, give it a try.”
> 
> -Illuminated, Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the end! Part one will soon be coming to a close, and I wanted to thank everyone that’s commented, left kudos, or even just given this work a chance by clicking and reading. Getting this far without all of you seems impossible to fathom, so thank you again ;)

**Mistakes are tainted silver**

 

“Risus, I understand that’s there’s magic involved. I understand that it’s my duty to be there- hell, I even understand _dancing_.” Virgil was seated in the room adjacent to his own, currently being held against his will by a grip so tight he was afraid he might bruise. “What I don’t understand is why I have to cover my face in that garbage.”

”Careful!” Risus chided, his smile just wide enough to set Virgil on edge. He wondered, not for the first time that day, how on earth his friend had the strength to hold him down. Was he a ninja as well as a mage, and whatever else Roman has decided to make him? Virgil could only guess. “You’ll hurt its feelings.”

”I’ll hurt the garbage’s feelings?”

”It’s magical garbage!” His shoulders were released, but he didn’t try to leave, was having too much fun watching the moral persona smile to even think about leaving. “You never know what it’s thinking.”

Finally the grey prince relented, nodding to give the mage the all clear, and man- was that grin of contentment worth it. Less patronising, as if he knew something that Virgil didn’t, and more like the kind man that he was used to. Gentle fingers brushed along his jaw to rest at the side of his mouth, tapping quickly.

”Here.” Risus pulled away to yank the stopper from the clear, seemingly empty bottle that lay waiting in front of them then scooping inside, before dabbing three fingers at the spots he had previously chosen. It was cold for a moment, colder than it would have been if it were just his hand that had touched his face, leading Virgil to believe that there had been something in the bottle after all. One glance to the mirror near him gave him nothing- his face was still clear. But the patches still remained cold, admant of their existence until the sensation faded away. “Now you’re ready to find _the one.”_

”Excuse me?” Virgil stood, ready to rub the invisible marks away.

”Don’t you know _anything_?” Risus teased, reaching out to straighten his jacket of a deep blue, a colour he himself wasn’t sure about. But Risus has chosen it, so he wasn’t about to say no when he had offered him a full, ready costume, even if it was a little tight for his liking. When the mage caught Virgil’s waiting eye that unnerving smile of his returned. “You should have payed more attention to the gossipers around you. Honestly Virgil,” he shook his head as if reprimanding a child. “Just watch out for the moon. You’ll see what I mean.”

“The moon? What does that have to do with finding-“

He was hushed. Complaining was his first thought, but he became a little preoccupied with trying to keep up with the mage that was dragging him along out of their house, and through the grounds to the castle, blue and purple tinted hair flying in the wind. He didn’t bother trying to explain why he didn’t need to watch for the moon, for he was never going to see it anyway.

 

 

They had arrived early, which didn’t bother Virgil as much as it could. It was easy to slip though the docile crowds that stood, waiting, waiting for their music to swirl in the air and hum into their ears, ready to be danced to. Dancing. He knew he would have to at some point- it would simply be bad form to refuse someone’s hand, but if he was being honest Risus seemed to be more in favour of it than himself. He was the right type for this event, cheerful and attractive and more than willing to participate in the fun and celebrating, that he could tell just by the way his friend’s eyes were roaming the room, awe and excitement sparkling with the reflecting light. When his head stopped turning, Virgil paid closer attention, following the direction of Risus’ gaze till it rested, unsurprisingly, on the Crown Prince.

Captiosus seemed more relaxed than Virgil had ever seen him, save for the time in the library. Drink in hand, he was conversing with members of his family, still keeping to the royal theme of purple robes, yet the mink fur was gone for this occasion. A quick glance to his friend left him smiling, for the awe was still present in his gaze, perhaps even more so, now that he had found the most beloved thing in the room.

He only remembered that Virgil was still there when he gave him a quick jab to the ribs with his elbow, after increasingly tight hand squeezes had failed. “He’ll come find you. Get your dancing shoes on.”

He was granted a blank face, followed by a laugh that that was almost lost in the buzz of the amassing crowd. “Virgil, don’t be ridiculous, why would he- we don’t even- I don’t know him that well!”

”And I’m hopelessly in love with Roman. See? Now we’re both liars.” Virgil’s smile only grew with the sight of Risus’ flustered face, but he let him off the hook when the first feeble notes of a musican’s flute began to play. It was soon followed by more instruments, swelling greatly to be heard over the rising chatter of the crowd as they moved as one to the dance floor, sweeping the two friends along with them.

As a pattern began to be heard in the music, he only then realised that his hand was empty. Risus had disappeared, leaving him alone. Alone with his thoughts, making him think of what did bother him, something much more pressing than the fact that he had arrived too early for the dancing to begin. He didn’t want to. He tried searching desperately for the mage, but there were too many faces, too many couples smiling sweetly at one another as they danced, blissfully unaware of the man on his own. Virgil was _alone_ and he couldn’t help the spiralling thoughts- it was as if they moved beyond his control.

He thought of Roman. He thought of being surrounded under the water by the inky blackness of a shadow and how similar he felt now, trapped in the swirling, twirling crowd that only wanted to dance. He thought of pulling at a body, dragging up and up and up till safety came in the form of air, and how empty his hands felt now, only able to clench into fists as he was jostled along, unable to see his friend, unwilling to call out. 

He thought of his panic, his choices, his admittance of addiction when it came to this place and how he still chose to return. He thought of the differences in his two realities and the fact that still rang true- he preferred this one despite the evil shadows, arrogant princes and fairies that try to lure people over cliffs.

He thought of Patton and Logan, and Roman too- how they would always be watching him, just waiting for him to slip up, to make a mistake. For the first two, he didn’t blame them. They only wanted to help him recover from his inevitable downfalls, but Roman- oh he knew far too well that the creative persona was hoping he’d fall so he could rub his face in the mud and gloat. He thought of that one creative persona, and he cursed himself for letting his mind separate him from the prince that annoyed him to no end- but at the end of the day smiled at him too. He knew he shouldn’t be so naive to think that here Roman would be different, because in reality it was only because he didn’t know how real the grey prince actually was that he gave him the time of day. 

It didn’t stop him from hoping though. It was far too late for that.

With goosebumps suddenly trailing up his arms he looked around him. The music had slowed, and some of the couples had stopped to... watch him?

Was it because he was on his own? Was his outfit wrong? No, Risus’ wouldn’t do that, he was a good guy at heart and despite his changes Virgil still saw a lot of the moral persona in him. Enough to trust him anyway. So what was the problem? The eyes, once on him, wouldn’t turn away. His clenched hands began to shake and he let his gaze drop low if only to escape the gazes of those watching him. What he saw made the breath catch in his throat, and not in a good way- it was the complete _opposite_ of a good way.

He was standing in a circular pool of pale, shimmering light. Moonlight. Any confusion he had as to why or how this was happening was forgotten in an instant, because as he tried to step away, back into the safety of the dark, he found it to be impossible. The circle of light only followed him. And the more he tried the more desperate he got, the watching eyes were only growing in numbers as he continued to struggle, and as he ducked his head further to avoid their gazes he thought of Risus, he wanted the man to come back. But he had slipped away to find the Crown Prince, he knew that- they were most likely dancing right now. 

He was happy for them. But he also wanted help. He needed Risus back, someone had to help him because the watching eyes were stabbing him with their curiosity and he didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

So when the crowds began to part, just a little, and Virgil could make out the shining top of purple hair in the darkness. He bit his lip to hold back tears of relief.

”Risus! Oh thank god, please, _please_ don’t leave me on my own again.”

Virgil regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the figure coming into view. He wished he could disappear. He wished he could wake up.

”I won’t, if you want me here that much,” Roman smiled, though his eyes flashing up and down to check Virgil’s well-being gave him away. 

They grey prince only gave a laugh that sounded broken in his ears, and now that he thought about it maybe it wasn’t a laugh but a choked sob. He couldn’t cry. Not in front of all these watching eyes. Not in front of _Roman_. He would never let it go if he did.

Roman slipped into the circle, much to the grey prince’s horror, and before Virgil could even even begin to protest his hand was being held, thin fingers entwining with his own shaking ones.

”Prince Virgil. Are you alright?” Roman watched him with wide eyes- he could barely stand to see them like that- tugging his hand gently as if to lead him away from the audiences prying eyes. “Is something wrong?”

In a way Virgil appreciated the sentiment, but he found his missing voice however when he saw that Roman too could not pass the circle’s edge.

His stomach dropped as things began to fall into place, Risus’ warnings coming back to him making far too much sense for his liking, and it took everything he had to resist cursing. Loudly. 

”Yes, Something is wrong!” You- are an absolute moron!” He whispered the words harshly into the air, not wanting to disturbs proceedings and draw even more attention to himself. God forbid Risus saw them like this, he would have a field day.

“You stepped in and now we’re both stuck, and everyone is going to see us and everyone is going to laugh and know it’s me and-“ his spiralling thoughts were flying out of his mouth quicker than he knew how to handle, only halting when the need to draw a gasping breath became too great. He was briefly aware of Roman’s grip moving to his shoulders- it felt like it was burning- but his mind ignored what his skin couldn’t help but feel, too wrapped up in self insecurities and doubt. “Of course this would happen to me. Of course I would be the one to get stuck in this bloody circle, and of course _you_ would be the one to be trapped in here with me. Now everyone is going to think that we’re...”

Despite all that his mind had been clamouring to say, Virgil couldn’t help but trail off as he watched the surface of Roman’s right cheekbone begin to shimmer lightly, expelling an enchanting silver glow. The dash of moonlight drew in Virgil’s eyes like they were lost ships, being guided through a terribly dark storm by a single, beaming lighthouse, and it was all he could do to follow the stripe to Roman’s smiling mouth and try to rembember how to breath again. “It’ll look like we’re...”

”Soulmates?” The scarlet prince finished for him, quietly, with eyes somehow as ethereal as his cheek was. Virgil realised with a start that it was his own marks, glowing against his will with dazzling moonlight, that were the cause of Roman’s eyes shining like that, copper and silver melting into one another until an entirely new compound remained.

He gingerly lifted a hand to his face, to where Risus has dotted three small patches of substance to the side of his mouth, and before he hadn’t even fought against it, hadn’t even thought to stop him- but in the end Roman beat him to it, rubbing a thumb across the marks with a gentleness that halted Virgil’s plans to desperately run them off.

”Yes,” he swallowed when Roman’s hand stilled. “That... well, obviously there’s been some kind of mistake, it shouldn't be you stuck in here with me- hell, I shouldn’t be stuck in here at all.” He jabbed an accusatory finger into Roman’s chest, not trusting himself to do more. He kept his gaze on the floor, not willing to lose himself for a second time to the shimmer of the prince’s cheek, or to the reflection of his own marks carved into those staring irises of his. ”This is your fault, _you_ stepped in, _you_ made our marks glow-“

This time, he couldn’t ignore the warmth of Roman’s hand on his cheek. It was making him lose his train of thought, not that he’d ever admit it. “So you can stop all this. You can fix the mess you’ve made, Roman.”

And to his plea the scarlet prince of Gondwana only laughed, and if he hadn’t tilted Virgil’s head up at that exact moment, he was ashamed to realise that his gaze would have returned to the prince’s anyway.

Roman’s slender hand found Virgil’s, and he purposefully lifted them into the moonlit air, casting ther shadow onto the polished floor, all the while wearing a smile free of double meaning.

”Or you could just dance with me?” Roman tugged him closer, dropping his chin in favour of wrapping a hand around Virgil’s waist.

”Excuse me?” Virgil was squinting with how close their faces had become, cheeks warmed by Roman’s laughter.

“Dance with me.” The scarlet prince repeated his impossible words, head tilting towards his ever so slightly, eyes lidded- and okay, Roman was _definitely_ messing with him now, of that Virgil was sure. Mostly.

He knew he was. He did. So why was it becoming harder to catch his breath, and why did it feel like Roman’s hands were made of fire, burning his palm and through the fabric at the small of his back? It was all too much, and once the thought was in his head, he didn’t know how to explain the notion away that he was reacting to Roman’s touch.

And just like that, the heat disappeared.

The shimmer lighting Roman’s easy smile with a silver hue faded, and he could see his marks following suit in the reflections of the prince’s eyes. The moon passed. The circle melted away. Virgil pulled his hand out of Roman’s grip. Even though they hadn’t been burning anymore, without the touch his fingers felt cold.

He flexed them, trying to bring back a semblance of normality, all the while stepping- _stumbling_ \- back and towards the waiting crowd. Away from Roman.

”Would you look at that,” he mumbled finally in return to the prince’s question. “You’ve been spared the trouble.”

Mentally he thanked the moon for its exit, though the people around him seemed less than pleased with there being no new couple to gawk at, to whisper about as the soulmates would dance, grinning, looking disgustingly happy as one would lift thin, reaching fingertips to brush the low purple fringe out of the others eyes and-

He shook his head to remove the image of the two of them dancing that definitely hadn’t been there. It had been a mistake. That was all. A mistake that he would move on from with simple ease, and not instead spend precious time in the dream, and maybe even the waking world, remembering the pleasant heat that had been offered through touches of fingertips, and definitely not wonder if the chill that resided in him could be overcome if he only held those hands again. 

He... he had to stop. A mistake had occurred. Nothing more, and nothing less.

And if he had come out of it with- _something_ \- he didn’t need, then that was his own damn problem and there was no need for anyone else to know.

Even if he did feel cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split this last chapter of part one into two, so if the ending is a little abrupt that’s probably why. (my bad)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Please, leave a comment if you have the time, it always makes my day :D


	11. Imprisoned in your frame of mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look into my eyes and tell me we're okay, and we both can be forgiven.
> 
> Kiss me gently, say the things you wanna say, don't need to ask permission.”
> 
> -Collide, Rachel Platten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've reached the end of Part One. To everyone reading this- I thank you all. Writing this, creating this little world, all of it has given me real joy and I anticipate the day that Part Two will begin.
> 
> And with that, I hope you all enjoy this final chapter.

**Imprisoned in your frame of mind**

 

Escaping to the gardens had been the only solution, really.

No hushed whispers to ask another for his name, and roll it off their tongues, committing it to memory. No faces, or less faces to see his flushed cheeks and worried lip as he remembered the impossible events, that he had somehow found himself in the centre of. No Roman, which was a necessity. There was a difference to the grey prince, between remembering Roman, and standing before him, watching the marks on his face disappear alongside his faltering smile.

Virgil laughed, fingers twitching, attempting to shake off the frigid cold that claimed them as he continued to walk alone. The lake was this way, he was sure.

He couldn’t see the scarlet prince right now. But that didn’t mean he was running. Of course he wasn’t running.

He imagined Logan in his head, telling in that matter-of-fact tone he always used that, in fact, there were many of other paths of action he could have followed. For example, leaving the party altogether, returning home and waking up in the real world where he could curse his idiocricy in private. He could have gone to find Risus, and make him leave too- thought that would be harsh, spoiling the other's fun. Well, Virgil had never claimed not to be selfish. He could have even stayed where he was, despite there being no moonlight to hold him prisoner, and just gone ahead to dance with-

He turned a corner, losing himself deeper into the garden. That wasn't an option. Definitely not.

The Logan in his head demanded differently. He pointedly decided to ignore him from now on.

It was all just... avoidance. Yes, he was just avoiding the awkward conversation that he was sure would happen if they were to talk. Still, he wished for that awkwardness desperately over what could happen in the other possible outcomes. Because all he could think about was Roman, smiling in that darkened hall, with a word that Virgil didn’t want resting on his lips.

 _Soulmates,_ was what Roman had told him, head tilted, pulling him closer.

A _mistake,_ was what Virgil told himself, touching a freezing hand to his scorching cheeks as he mentally cursed their betrayal.

Roman must have written something like this in his stupid ruby books, maybe the dance had actually been meant for Risus and Cap. Virgil must have just gotten in the way. That was plausible, right?

That had to be it.

Virgil gave a sigh of relief, stopping at the turn of his path for a moment to mentally applaud his common sense. Because of course this made sense. Of course this was the truth. Of course Roman had intended the dance for another, because who in their right mind- let alone _Roman_ \- would ever want to dance with Virgil? It didn’t matter that he was a Prince, that this version of him was _better_. It was still him.

He could explain all this away. Any unwanted feelings he had could be explained away. It would be _fine_.

“Are you sure you can leave the party like this?”

If Virgil wasn’t already standing still he would have frozen, trembling fingers still shaking at his sides. That was Risus’ voice he had just heard, matching Patton’s worried lilt to a fault, and the similarity made his stomach turn. Curiousity got the better of him and he continued to walk in the direction of the lake. What was wrong?

”It’s a large party. Nobody is going to notice our absence.”

Virgil reached the lake and immediately backtracked his steps, in fear of the couple spotting his presence.

Unsurprisingly, it was Roman’s latest project. Captiosus smiled at his love with the words he had just spoken, but Risus was frowning in the most un-Patton like way, an apprehensive look painting his face as he glanced behind them. To where he was hiding.

Virgil held his breath, as if that would somehow make him less noticeable. It didn’t, of course, because breath holding does not and never will equal invisibility.

This was all Roman’s fault. All that time he’d spent invading his thoughts like a song Virgil could do nothing to forget, and just like that, his mind was ruined. It had been ruined from the moment he'd discovered him in the alleyway, and everything else, the arguments, the hunting parties, the confusing smiles- all of it only made it almost unbearably worse.

And then there had been tonight. All the calm he'd managed to collect after Roman first showed up was sent flying away like fragile sheets of paper blowing in the wind- tonight had turned what Virgil had thought was his world upside down. Then lit it on fire for good measure. Virgil could deny things as much as he wanted, but even he couldn't hide from himself the fact that tonight had changed something, something important.

Again his mind drifted to the image of Roman as the moon had bled away, taking the shine in his eyes with it. Who knew what the great scarlet prince was thinking? He sure didn't.

”Why are you hiding?”

Fingers poked at his back and Virgil whirled around, covering his mouth so that his shout wouldn’t alert the others. It came out as a sort of strangled gasp instead, for his hand was suddenly freezing on his face- his entire body felt cold now, despite the warmth of the night.

Roman was there, his face still devoid of silver. No. No- Virgil couldn’t do this, he had come to the garden to avoid Roman and now he found himself _alone_ with him. Nothing ever went right for him, did it? He wanted to lay low, stay out of Roman’s way and avoid getting noticed, but no, fate was a cruel mistress and she just had to keep pushing them together, as if she enjoyed his absolute misery.

Roman only grinned at his discomfort, but there was no way he could have known about the chill running through his veins.

”Keep your voice down, unless you want to get beheaded for spying.”

He heard Roman’s low whistle as he turned back to peer round the corner. “That’s what the rules are like around here? Hardcore.”

”Oh no, those kind of rules only apply to the people that can’t shut their mouths.”

The warmth that was Roman’s hand on his shoulder drew a frown to Virgil’s face as the prince peeked around his shoulder. Even in some rule-ignoring dream world like this there should have been no way Roman’s touch should constantly set his skin on fire, but here he was, and when it became apparent that Captiosus and Risus has moved on and out of sight, it took Virgil a moment to remember to step out of reach of his touch.

Roman’s grin was one the anxious persona had seen many times before, though his hand stayed raised for a good few seconds before he finally lowered it again, flexing the fingers as he did so. “Well I’m sure that you being out here must be breaking at least a few rules too. Look at that,” he all but sang as Virgil pushed past him, grumbling as he went, walking back in the direction to the ball. “We’re as bad as eachother. What a pair we make huh? We could drop this prince life and make ourselves into famous outlaws.”

A pair of footsteps doing their best to keep in time with his own told Virgil that’s Roman was following him back. “Come on, think about it! We could rule the world with our attractive charms.”

The words flowing from behind Virgil’s head paused for a contemplative moment. “Maybe I could cover the attractive end. You focus on your brooding skills- that way we can’t ever lose.”

Roman was ridiculous. Attractive, and charming, but also utterly ridiculous. Virgil would give him that. “What, like some sort of double act. Like partners in crime?”

”Exactly!” Roman bounded forwards to grin at him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Exactly like that.”

He overtook the prince again. “Yeah, well keep dreaming because I don’t particularly see the appeal to a future stuck with you.” His feet slowed, there was no longer any chatter behind him with footsteps to accompany him.

“Roman, we really should be getting back.“

Virgil turned his head, his dazed mind expecting to see nothing more than the path he had walked along, and why shouldn’t he? That was how paths tended to work. They didn’t just change on you.

Apparently this path hadn’t got the memo, having widened out into a circle, sprouting bushes to guard its middle from prying eyes. Sharp, prickly stems and fragrant leaves had snaked up from the dark earth, colour blooming in be form of roses to complete the scene.

Virgil of course, had to pretend that there was no change, that the path had always led to a garden like this. If this was Roman’s way of testing him he would have to do better than that. Even with his mind in such a state it would take more than to-

“Do you like them?”

Roman’s eyes wouldn’t meet his own, his shy smile the only thing letting Virgil know that he was truly talking to him. But words came with difficulty, how was he supposed to answer a question like that- what even was the right answer?

Saying yes, and watching the smile turn triumphant as Roman would gloat about his victory over the intruder running amok in his dream, before casting him away with nothing but the thorn that would fill the gaping hole in his chest.

Saying no, and risking losing the prince’s favour, however confusing that sometimes seemed to leave him. Risking losing the good times that occurred far and few between the bad that he associated with Roman, and never being able to put down his guard, never ridding himself onthe fear that, if Roman didn’t like the grey prince enough, he would end up removing him anyway.

Or just saying nothing. Unsurprisingly the third option won out, and Virgil waited for Roman’s eyes to finally rise from the ground painted with a few loose petals, watching them grow wide, thinking Virgil was merely holding his tongue because of a need for clarification. “The roses, I mean. Do you care for them at all?”  

Why was he searching for the grey prince's favour if he thought Virgil not to be, well, real? Was it not for the garden that he yearned validation? Virgil didn't know. He just couldn't even _begin_ to know what it was that Roman wanted from him. But he approached him all the same, a smile in place, because the flowers he had created really were beautiful. He supposed, looking like this in the starlit darkness, skin aglow with the precious light from this dream of a world, Roman was beautiful too. Virgil didn't need a soulmate mark to tell him that, though he still thought this entire incident was just one big plan for Roman to succeed in getting his ship together- even if it had failed in the most spectacular way.

He was just a face- one that that was shared amongst many others living inside of Thomas' head, but to him Princey had always been different, always  _made_  himself different. Whether it be by the bright cloth he draped himself in, never willing to let go of the past by reminiscing the royal outfit he played in when he was younger, or his hair, _god_ , Virgil could only imagine how rich they'd be if the amount of energy Roman used willing bottles of product into existence, could somehow translate into real money for their Thomas to use. Who the creative persona was trying to impress was beyond him. But at the end of it all, Roman was undeniably attractive. Even without all the effort he put in, he was attractive. Even after a long day of desperately running the mind, coming up with the perfect idea, or the right song to use in an audition, when his hair drooped, the product failing, and the slump in his step that he always had while trailing back to his room... he was still stupidly attractive.

But there was a difference between someone being attractive, and being attracted to someone. And Virgil knew where he stood on that line. It had all been a mistake, after all. Even so...

Roman... hadn't run. It had been a terrible error to let him do so, but Virgil had allowed him to reach for his hand, he'd allowed him to pull his body closer, which Virgil distantly realised were a series of actions that were being repeated now, in the dark with no moon to light the way. He could tell, not just by the feel of the hand, those slender fingers that brushed his, too hesitant and much to rushed all at once, but also by the warmth pricking at his numb fingertips before moving like running water up his arm to wash away the cold that he had almost forgotten existed. How could he be expected to remember anything, with Roman stood so close?

He couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped past his lips, eventually giving in to what he had been running from- because of _course_ he had been running- by just leaning into Roman's touch. He felt his hand falling down to the side- their entwined hands falling down, feeling warm, impossibly warm and Virgil could only close his eyes.

He didn't want to see Roman's face, didn't want to see how it would change as he noticed the effect he had on Virgil, how easily he caused his cheeks to flush a deep red as he allowed his head to rest on the prince's chest, hearing all of a sudden his heartbeat loudly drumming in his ear. Did it sound normal? He didn’t know. It's not like he did this often. Apart from Patton the sides never had been too keen on coming close to him.

Virgil felt his surroundings shift, his fringe being brushed away from his eyes. And then there was a laugh by his ear, nowhere near as warm as his hands felt but it still made him jolt all the same.

"What's all this? Do you- for some bizarre reason- no longer want to punch my devilishly handsome face?” Virgil's own heart was stuttering traitorusly in his chest, and he prayed that Roman couldn’t hear it. He would laugh, he would scorn, he would call Virgil afraid and he couldn’t bare to hear that come from Roman again.

He wasn’t scared. At the very least, he was a bundle of nerves, too afraid to look the creative persona in the eye despite knowing that Roman was searching for them. Searching for an answer. "You can shut up, Roman. I was just cold. You were convenient." 

The words left his mouth and he immediately regrets it all, immediately regrets hearing Roman's sharp intake of breath because he must have been suffering from the same coldness, the numbing feeling that could only be sated by a closeness to the other, and crap- he shouldn't have  _said_ anything, because of course Roman would have known what it meant. He created this whole bloody evening, he knew what he was doing- it had just happened to the wrong people.

At least, he briefly thinks, Risus and Cap got their time together anyway.

"Really?"

This was an out. It had to be an out. A chance to back away, to rebuke his own words, to pull his hand from the scarlet prince's otherwise unwavering grip. He had to say no, that he wasn’t _that_ cold. He had to say no.

“Yes, really.”

And so it was decided. He was a idiot. He was a complete _idiot_.

Didn't he want the chance to flee? Hadn't he told himself that very same night that it had all been wrong, a mistake, and yet here he was passing up an opportunity to bury everything.

He was terrified of the alternative, but Roman hadn't run. He couldn't forget how Roman hadn't run, he had only lessened the gap between them, and now his head was tilting again. Only this time Virgil couldn't shake the idea that this wasn't any kind of a joke him. He wanted to push it away- he wasn't the creative side so why was he getting ideas- but it held as firm as Roman's gaze did when he finally raised his head.

Virgil hadnt thought it possible but Roman’s smile was the same as the one he had seen next to the river, with curling lips slowly shifting away from icy blue. Virgil had known what to do then. What to do now was a different matter entirely, and one he was not mentally prepared for, thank you very much. It was overwhelming, it was far too much for him and the smallest of steps that he took back was enough to snap Roman out of whatever thoughts had softened his smile to such a degree. Slowly, Roman let his hand go, but it seemed to Virgil that neither of them were willing to let it end- almost immediately they were reaching for eachother again as if by instinct. He caught himself, and he saw Roman doing it too, but another step back wouldn’t hurt anyone.

"Listen, Virgil." And here it was. The thing that terrified him more than any amount of eye contact, any urges he had to give it all up and hold his hand again. Here was the storm, to follow this minute of calm. Or maybe- maybe their brief moments earlier in the moonlight had been Virgil's calm and everything after that- all the spiralling thoughts, all the denials, Roman finding him and drawing him in close all over again- that was the ominous rumbling of thunderclouds gathering. And now the storm was about to break, letting the rain fall. "Let's not go back."

He didn't understand, and it must have shown on his face because the smile Roman was offering now looked as unsure as he felt. "The party won't miss a few princes, and I heard the stars in Avalonia are exquisite."

The rain poured in Virgil's mind. He couldn't think straight. 

"Roman?”

As much as it pained him to do so- and he suspected that it affected Roman too- he stepped back properly, taking an agonising second to adjust to the cold that was wanting and succeeding in its efforts to seep into is bones. "I don't... I don't understand. What do you _want_?"

He only watched as Roman turned to the roses, choosing to look away from Virgil’s eyes in favour of the plants in his sight. “I hardly even know. Time, I guess? Time with you. I feel like we aren’t going to get much more.”

Depite the lack of feeling in his body Virgil still noticed the chill running down his spine. What did Roman know that he didn’t?

“I could- I could make time. We could make time.” It was funny. Mere moments ago he had been trying to avoid the gaze of the scarlet prince and now it seemed that he would do anything just to get it back. 

Virgil tried to move again. His brow deepened in concern- his legs felt like they were weighing him down, and his arms were the same, dangling uselessly at his sides unless he concentrated to make them move.

Roman hadn’t noticed, too focused on his still beautiful, but quickly turned annoying bushes to realise there was a problem. It was only when he tried to lift a hand to touch the lavender petals that he realised something was wrong, his arm had barely moved an inch. His legs still seemed to work, the lucky bastard, because he was suddenly in front of Virgil, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“You too?”

Virgil nodded. God, even his neck felt stiff. “My legs got the worst of it.”

Roman sighed, almost looking apprehensive as he reached for Virgil’s hands again.

”Just- wait.” Though Virgil’s body was slowing freezing into place his head was running miles. A possible way out came to mind, but he had half a heart to shove it away and pretend he had never even thought of it. 

But he was sick of this cold. There was no way he could return to the dream the next night, the night after that and all the way into the unforeseeable future, while retaining all his usual enthusiasm if there was _this_ to deal with, and to be quite frank he wasn’t going to let something as easily solvable as this stop him from getting a good sleep at night. He did this for Thomas. The better the sleep he got, the better he could do his job, the better he could be at keeping his host safe. He did this for himself too, there was no amount of lying to himself that could make Virgil think otherwise- he needed this world at night to get through the days, and that was okay. It was okay because he was going to do this to keep the dream a place where he wanted to be.

He could see the creative persona shaking where he stood, and decided the only way to salvage the situation was to completely screw it up.

”Roman.” He was too stiff to move. “Kiss me.” 

As if the cold had overcome him all at once, Roman froze. Virgil knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't stand to hold his hand again only to inevitably feel the warmth slip from his fingertips the moment he let go. And as much as it pained him to admit it, Virgil knew how this worked. He knew how Roman shaped his ideals around monumental quests, happy endings, situations that would seem devoid of all hope until a solution appeared to save them all. Countless stories filled his head where  _this_ had been that solution, and well, this was Roman. As if it could have been an other way. 

In all honesty, if Roman's plan had gone through how he had obviously intended it to, and the other two had been the ones who needed to save themselves, Virgil may have even applauded him. But seeing as it was not the others but himself, he would hold his praise for another day.

Roman was yet to move, or even reply as he stared at Virgil with a blank look in his eyes, as if he hadn't even been able to comprehend what he was asking of him. Now Virgil knew he wasn't the most attractive of the sides, like he previously said that role belonged to Roman, but the idea of someone having to kiss him surely couldn't be that inconceivable, right? He tried to think of it from an outsiders perspective. His hair was dull in comparison to the richness and the vibrance that seemed to surround Roman, and even without the eyeshadow that curled around his eyes in the waking world, his face had never been a thing of beauty with sharp, almost hollow cheeks, and a sickly pale hue of colour that wasn't just down to white foundation, no matter what anyone said.

Who was he kidding. Of course the idea seemed horrifying in Roman's eyes. 

"Why would you want me to kiss you?"

The shaky words confused Virgil as the scarlet prince finally replied, for they were not the words he expected. 'Why would I ever want to kiss you?' would hurt for sure, but at least it made sense for Roman to outright refuse him. Instead, he was asking Virgil for his reasons. As if they weren't obvious. He was just trying to get them both out of this mess before they froze and became the newest additions to the castle's statue decorations, he wouldn't be asking unless he thought it was the only way. Roman blinked expectantly, waiting for an answer but Virgil wasn't paying attention. He was just trying to save them. Why would Roman ever come to the conclusion that he wanted to... well, actually kiss him? 

Unless. Unless he actually thought he did.

"No. Stop. Whatever you're thinking, just don't."

Roman's eyes widened. "Virgil?"

He watched the scarlet prince, painfully aware of the silence that was stretching between them. Words. He had to say words. Why were words so difficult? Here was Roman, waiting for an explanation to his outburst (one he now deeply regretted) and he did not know how to give it. He could lie to himself and blame the cold for freezing his mouth but he knew damn well that wasn't the case, and he feared that Roman would instantly see through the ruse and know that Virgil was lying. And if he could lie about one thing then what was to stop Roman from figuring out that his entire existence in the dream was a lie? Nothing. So an excuse was off the cards. The truth it was, then.

"Before you get all romantic on me, I don't like you. Repeat, _don't._  I had no extravagant plans to make you dance with me, or hold my hand, or anything else that has happened tonight."

Immediately he's cursing to himself, that was harsh, that was a meaner than what he wanted to say and it seemed like whatever Virgil tried to do he would just end up getting himself kicked out anyway. But he didn't want that to be today. Not today. "I didn't mean it like that- I'm not saying that people wouldn't like you, I'm sure they do! Just not... me?"

Jesus, words were the absolute  _worst._ But it seemed to do the trick at least, Roman was finally snapping out of his stupor from earlier, the shock from the horrible prospect of kissing Virgil wearing off. Because there was definetly no other reason for that to have occured. At least, none that Virgil was willing to think about.

"So you don't like me."

"Absolutely not."

There was another pause, but thankfully Virgil didn't have to have another brain panic about his lack of eloquence because Roman was already clearing his throat.

"That's good to know," he said. "But it doesn't explain why you asked me to, um, you know-"

"I thought it would sort out this whole... soulmate issue." Virgil replied, cutting him off as fast as he could, because if Roman said it then it would be harder for Virgil to repress and forget that this part of the dream had ever happened. And oh boy, did he plan to repress and regret it.

Roman sucked in a breath between his teeth. "So... you thought we were cursed, and  _that_ was the solution you came up with?" Suddenly he was grinning, and Virgil found himself wishing for the dumbstruck prince to come back because he had just realised that Roman was going to tease him about this till the end of the actual world. "If I didn't know any better, Virgil, I'd say that you had a little crush on me."

And so it began. "Whaaaat? I had no clue you were so perceptive. I mean, putting all the clues together? I’m nothing short of amazed.”

Roman smiled. Then he didn't. "You're being sarcastic, aren't you."

"I literally just said you why I told you to ki- to do what I asked you to do." He couldn't even let himself say it, not if he wanted to spend the rest of his life denying it ever happened. Better to be safe than sorry. "It's always the solution to problems like this, when magic decides to be a pain in everyone's backside."

It took Virgil a moment to realise that Roman hadn't answered, hadn't cut in with an insulting quip like he was used to the creative persona always providing. He smoothed down his robes but they sprung back, crumpled in a way that damaged his air of perfection. When he noticed that Virgil had stopped talking to merely stare at him the smile returned to his face. Virgil hadn't realised he'd been staring, looking away before he managed to make things awkward again, but he couldn't help but notice that the smile never reached his eyes. In fact, he hadn't even been looking at Virgil, as if he was seeing through him instead.

"Are you... okay?"

Roman refocused with a jump, as if Virgil showing concern was something to be frightened of. It took him a moment to even begin looking like he wanted to answer his question, and Virgil tried to push away the pang of joy he felt at Roman struggling with words like he had. See? They aren't easy. 

"I didn't realise it was that bad for you. Being stuck with me, I mean.” The laugh Roman gave was a pathetic shadow of his usual cocky charm, the attitude that was endearing despite it all, and Virgil didn’t know what words he could say that would bring that strong version of the creative persona back, to replace this prince that let down walls that Virgil knew he definitely wouldn’t be doing while awake. “But ingore me, I’m being stupid- _this_ is stupid. You’re right, I’ll just kiss you now and get it over with.”

Well there goes his chances of repressing all thoughts and feelings regarding tonight. No way Virgil was going to get the quiet way Roman said that out of his head any time soon. “Well, if you’re sure...”

”I am,” Roman said, reaching out to finally take Virgil’s hands and that gave him some relief, at least. But not enough to affect his clamouring mind in any way, because this was happening? This was really happening? Sure, Roman was nicer than he had ever had been in real life, this was a dream meaning he could do whatever he wanted, and he didn’t even know that the Virgil he was about to kiss was _real_ \- but it was still _happening_.

Roman pulled on his arms and despite his frozen feet Virgil still stumbled forwards, until he was close enough that there was no backing out, not that he wanted to. It wasn’t because he was actually looking forward to the kiss, god, the day that happened would be the day the world ended, it was just apprehension that he felt. What if it didn’t work? Would they just have to hold hands forever? That seemed impractical, not to mention impossible.

But what if it did work? What on earth would happen to them then? It wasn’t a question Virgil particularly wanted to answer right now.

The scarlet prince chuckled, the sound warm and low in his throat, hinting at the confidence that it seemed Roman could turn on and off as he wished, as his temperament was changing so often tonight. But it was not malicious, nor judgemental or suspicious, and Virgil felt the most relaxed around Roman than he had ever felt since he had first shown, despite the current situation where his was practically in his arms.

It was no surprise to Virgil when he closed his eyes. He couldn’t do much, but maybe he could make it easier on Roman, this way it would be easier for him to forget who it was he was having to kiss.

So when lips finally brushed against him he couldn’t help but gasp, his eyes flying open, fingertips that were intertwined into Roman’s clothing tightening their grip as much as they could in their frozen state. Roman’s head was nowhere near his own. His head had dipped, gentle lips pressing against his knuckles on the hand Virgil hadn’t even felt him raise.

The action sent a hazy blush flooding his cheeks, because he thought he had been prepared to get it all over with and then Roman had gone and done... that.

It wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just soft and respectful and oh so very _Roman_ that Virgil couldn’t fight the grin that bloomed on his red face even if he wanted to.

Roman raised his head in time to catch his smile, the moonlight lighting his eyes in a way that made Virgil’s breath catch in his throat, the ever elusive words he felt he should say refusing to be said. Though his kiss was gone his hands had been enveloped by both of Roman’s own, but it wasn’t to keep out the cold.

The cold had gone, so the touch didn’t strike warmth into his fingertips. Now he only felt Roman. He only felt the normal chill that came from the cold, cold winds this late into the night. He only smelt the roses, the scent surrounding him so much that he thought he could choke on it, but he didn’t of course. This was Roman’s dream. Nothing that was beautiful could ever harm while Roman was here. He only saw the moon’s rays transforming the prince’s eyes into pools of sliver, and the moon itself, up there in the velvet sky that adorned its plain navy with jewelled stars.

The Avalonian stars really were exquisite. Roman had been right. Of course he had been right. This night could have gone far, far worse. Yet Virgil felt happy, this dream would end with what he had always dreamed of, seeing the moon. 

His blood froze for an entirely new reason. It was night time. The moon was in the sky, it was there and Virgil was _seeing_ it. He was still _here_.

The sun had set in Avalonia, but neither Roman nor Virgil had woken up.

 

 

 **End of Part One.**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIS DONE. 
> 
> SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG, HAVE SOME TRASHY WRITING, FREE OF CHARGE BY YOURS TRULY.  
> IM READY TO COLLAPSE BUT I HOPE AGAINST ALL REASON THAT YALL LIKE THIS, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU DO.
> 
> Sorry this took so long, sorry it was SUCH TRASH. I do not like how I’ve ended this but I’ve rewritten it a bunch and this mediocre level is the best I can do.
> 
> I will restate- I do intend with all my heart to continue this with Part Two but no official dates or anything because hnnnnn pressure.  
> I hope you all have an incredible day!!! Flo xx


	12. PART TWO: You're perfect, and I'm just a tad out of place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Half my life is books, written pages.
> 
> Live and learn from fools and from sages.”
> 
> -Dream on, Aerosmith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya folks! Look at that, I’m still alive and kicking and unable to get over our boys as royalty, except for Patton I guess (sorry dude)
> 
> Happy birthday to the world's greatest Dad Pat and to Virgil back in December! (Virgil and I share a birthday lol. The national day of emos shall not be forgotteeeeen.)
> 
> Anyway, welcome to Part Two! I’m not going to promise anything dumb like the chapters will be twice as long, or that my writing quality is about to become two times better or anything... but I can hopefully say that the boys are going to be twice as dumb about their feelings, so at least there’s that.
> 
> Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! If you could leave a kudos or comment that would make me super happy :)

**Part Two**

**You're perfect, and I'm just a tad out of place**

 

 

Virgil had never felt so useless.

Eyes. So many pairs of eyes bore into him as he returned - not alone - to the grand party. He wrung his hands together, mostly because he had been picking at his painted nails (courtesy of Risus) for so long that they had begun to hurt, and he had to do something else. It was as if when he had entered the room, the murmurings that had begun when Roman, Risus and Cap first appeared grew and grew till nobody was dancing anymore. It was a ball. Why had they all stopped dancing? Virgil didn't understand how he could be of so much interest when... when matters of much more importance lay just a few meters ahead of him. 

He felt hyper aware of everything around him, like how a couple that had been laughing together next to the musicians narrowed their eyes and pursed their lips in concern upon their entrance. Or how he heard the clinks of heels and the shimmers of dresses as people ever so subtly gave him a wide berth as he stepped through the arches. He definitely didn't miss a child, hiding behind the dress of their mother. It felt just like before, when he was stuck in the moonlight with no chance of escape. Actually, no. This felt worse. This was somehow worse. Virgil was the last to enter the hall, the last to receive everyones eyes- but he felt paranoid enough to believe that he held their attention, their prickling gazes the longest. Did he really wear his guilt so plainly on his face?

He felt like they could look into his eyes and see everything that he had done.

Or more accurately, everything he hadn't.

 

***

 

_"I’ll just kiss you now and get it over with."_

Virgil had thought that he would have spent a... definitely average, not obsessive amount of time turning that phrase over and over in his mind for the rest of the night. And when he had inevitably woken up he was sure he would have willed a lock to appear on his door so that nobody, especially Roman, could interrupt him as he would attempt to convince his mind to let it go, that no matter how confusing those small - probably insignificant to Roman, definitely insignificant to Roman - words were, he could move past it and enjoy his dreams. 

Then of course, he'd noticed the giant fucking moon and his brain had fallen apart, deciding that Roman's words weren't worth taking all of Virgil's time anymore because of this new, slightly petrifying development.

The moon shone so brightly, so easily up there in the sky that he wondered why he hadn't thought to question it when he had seen it before. Some part of him wanted to stick up for himself, something that Virgil... didn't really know what to think about really. It argued that Virgil had been distracted, that first Risus, and then Roman had taken up his attention with beautiful gardens and what could have almost passed for compliments. That he had almost been looking forwards to having fun. Virgil bit his tongue to swallow a bitter laugh, so that Roman wouldn't notice his changed attitude, as the last thing he needed right now was another brilliant development of Roman discovering the truth about Virgil. That would truly be the icing on the stupid, _stupid_ cake that was his life.

Looking forwards to having fun. He was supposed to be keeping vigilant for anything that might disrupt one of the  _only_ good things Virgil had going for him, and he'd let himself get distracted by the prospects of music and dancing and  _fun._  

He didn't deserve the chance to stay here. He felt like curling up on ground and somehow forcing himself awake, because an idiot like him didn't get to have nice things. But he was more than selfish enough to not go through with the thought, as much as the nasty voice in his head said that yeah, he probably should lie on the ground and ponder his idiocy for a little while.

”Virgil?” Roman gave his hand a squeeze, concern in his voice, and Virgil knew he probably only had moments before Roman started to grow suspicious of why he was staring at the moon like that. It didn’t make it any easier to draw his his gaze away, but eventually he was watching their linked hands. He promptly let Roman go, thankful that one thing had gone right tonight, in that now he was feeling the normal amount of cold that someone who wasn’t cursed should be feeling.

Virgil had to leave. He didn’t want to be around when Roman looked up. He didn’t even know how to expect Roman to react, but it probably wouldn’t be good. Roman liked things to be perfect. With the exception of the addition of Virgil, this dream of his had been perfect. So he imagined that this sudden change would sour Roman’s mood because, Virgil wasn’t an idiot- he knew that Roman would still prefer to wake up to Logan and Patton and Thomas because he was actually wanted there. This dream was a fun game for him, but in the end that’s all it was; a game. A game that, for some reason, appeared to be broken.

And Virgil knew for sure that if Roman knew how real the hand he’d just been holding was, he would blame Virgil for breaking it without a moments thought.

But for now, Roman just had a stupid smile on his face that Virgil really didn’t need to see, it made him think that he was about to do something incredibly dumb. He started to turn, more than ready to leave, and more than ready to ignore whatever it was Roman looked like he was about to say.

”I just- I just wanted to tell you-“

A strangled yell cut him off, and Virgil froze mid turn. Slowly faced Roman, who looked as confused as he felt. There was a clattering sound coming from around the corner of the bush, and furious whispering to accompany it.

”Uh,” the bush spoke, which Virgil thought was a little hard to believe even if this was a dream. “Don’t mind us.”

More whispers. “Me. Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you were doing.”

Roman and Virgil shared a glance, before both beginning to advance on whoever it was that had decided to spy. Not that he thought people would think Virgil and Roman were hiding anything that made them worthy of being spied on.

He was slightly too spooked to do anything, but he reminded himself to let Roman know they they had only just gotten away from spying on someone themselves, so they weren’t really in the position to get too offended.

He was just thankful they hadn’t been spotted by Risus and Cap.

The same Risus and Cap that he saw now, as he and Roman rounded the corner, looking as if they wanted to dive into the bush in an effort not to be seen.

Huh.

”Would you look at that, we’re not bushes anymore!” Risus gave them a weak wave. “It’s a miracle.”

Virgil severely doubted that was the truth, no matter how convincingly Risus tried to arrange tiny branches in his hair. Captiosus, it seemed, was more willing to accept defeat, pulling himself away from the bush while brushing green leaves off of his purple robes.

”We just so happened to catch sight of the two of you, and after our previous conversation Roman, I thought it would be easier to explain the exact situation to Risus if we observed-“

”Aha!” Roman raises both his hands, looking almost as if he wanted to push Cap back into the leaves before deciding against it. “The things you come up with sometimes. That conversation wasn’t important.”

Captiosus looked away from attempting to distangle Risus from the persistent branches digging into his sides, his eyebrows drawn together as he frowned. “But Roman, you told me yourself that-“

”Cap,” Risus interjected. “Less talking, more saving me from the man-eating greenery, please.”

The lack of hesitation in the crown prince’s response as he turned back around was enough to get Virgil to smile.

As soon as they'd all succeeded in freeing Risus from the shrubbery, Roman was quick to pull at Captious, dragging him ahead with harsh whispers too quiet for Virgil to hear. The crown prince looked bemused. Roman was probably concerned about his not so secret relationship with the mage that he really did have to work better on at hiding. It was a strange scene for Virgil to picture- the side so obsessed with romance trying to convince someone to tone it down- and yet it must have been happening. Why else would Roman keep on gesturing animately to were he and Risus were walking behind them?

Virgil hadn't seen anything about Risus and Cap having any kind of attachment towards each other whatsoever in the books. Maybe Roman had changed something. Maybe he'd just missed it.

His gaze lingered on the moon for as long as he dared, taking Risus's arm to avoid walking into anything as the four of them made their way through the gardens, the sounds of rushing fountain water and the now gentle mutterings of words from Roman and Cap the only things to accompany them. Surely Virgil wouldn't have missed seeing that. And it seemed too big of a change to just...  _happen_ out of nowhere.

Loud complaining drew his head back down with a snap, justifications and excuses for why he had been staring at the sky at the ready. But the crown prince was only smirking at Roman, who's face was as red as the roses he could make appear. When his eyes caught Virgil's he gave a little wave, his face only darkening further. Virgil would have to ask Cap for tips on how to piss Roman off, as he seemed to have it down to a fine art.  

"Why do you keep on staring at him?"

Risus was wearing a face of perfect curiosity. Virgil was thrown off guard for a moment. When he thought he'd have to defend himself before, the words had come easily, but now it seemed he had no clue what to say. The mage's innocent smile widened a fraction- Virgil's silence must have meant something good. What it was, he didn't know. "Did he say something?"

Ah. He wanted secrets, so now it made sense. Their little stakeout must have not gotten him the results he wanted. 

"You were there, weren't you?" Virgil stuck his head in the air, trying his best to look down his nose at him. Maybe that was one downfall to this reality. No thick-based converse to help him hide the fact that he was the smallest out of them all. "Oh that's right, you weren't  _actually_ spying. It was just the...?"

"Evil bushes."

"Right," Virgil confirmed. "The evil bushes. So evil that even a mage like you couldn't take them."

Risus ruffled his hair then, as if he knew what he'd been thinking. "You know that fighting the terrible terrible evil isn't my strong suit. But give me a few hours at my brewing station..." He raised a fist to the sky in mock anger, his face getting oddly serious. "I could make an acid so potent that it would burn them down to their roots. No survivors."

Virgil felt a sudden pang for home.

Patton's jokes were kinder than that. Patton's smile was different. Patton would clasp his hands together, eyes scrunched up as he gained joy from his jokes- and Logan would grumble and Roman would play along and Virgil- well, he would brush it off and hurt the moral persona's feelings. Here in the dream he could never hurt his feelings. And Risus didn't seem the like to take offence in the same way as Patton did. A difference. But maybe it could be good.

His mind shifted his momentary weakness away. Now was not the time to think about home. Now until he figured out a way to get back. He wanted to go back.

"Remind me never to piss you off then." He wanted to go back.

The mage stopped in his tracks, and Virgil wondered if he was the type to get offended after all. But he quickly cast the idea away-Risus had taken Virgil's arm and was latching onto it much tighter than Virgil had previously done. Any question he might have asked died in his throat when he saw where he was looking.

Up. Up directly into the sky, and only as Virgil followed his gaze did he notice how much darker it had gotten, the statues and greenery casting shadows with sharpened edges that seemed to curl around the group as Virgil heard the others also come to a stop. Up until then it had been a cloudless night.

It was still a cloudless night- and yet the moon’s rays were obstructed by something floating directly above them, something that twisted and shuddered as the cold air of the evening blew against it. Only when a part of it broke away, moving through the air in a wide arc to end up directly in his line of sight, did Virgil truly begin to suspect something was wrong.

The patch of darkness was still moving. It was moving directly for them. That was the moment Virgil came to the realisation that he had no sword, and his pendant was still safely chained around Roman’s neck. He was completely defensless. His mind scrambled for something- anything that might help him. Anything that could help him protect the others. But all he could think of were negatives, some of them problems that could be solved if he only had the correct items which, surprise suprise, he did not.

The first disadvantage was the fact that it was night. The shadows had always been documented as being stronger at night- but Virgil’s mind drew back to the events of that afternoon, and he wondered whether all that had already begun to be incorrect. But going on the assumption that light did have some effect, their situation was only going to get worse because what little moonlight there was had been blocked out by the group of shadows that remained still, above their heads, as if they wanted to stay and watch their demise. Well, probably just his demise, as the others all had the one thing that was necessary to keeping them safe.

Virgil wondered, not for the first time, why he had given his guarantee of protection to Roman so willingly. 

The second, and more worrying disadvantage, was how planned this seemed to be. How much it felt like a trap. Their group was incredibly far from the castle at this point, too far away to call for help, too far for anyone to see the danger and raise the alarm. This attack had been organised. This had been given meticulous thought- something that Virgil didn’t believe the shadows were capable of performing. 

The location, the positioning of the shadows over the moon, a single, lone shadow that slipped quickly though the air until it would be upon them- all of it pointed to something or someone pulling the strings in the background. But what? Virgil had seen nothing of this from his brief time in Roman’s little brainstorming room- but then again, what was Roman really capable of? Virgil really couldn't say whether the creative persona would be willing to design all of this, just to see it get torn apart. Or maybe he wanted that. Maybe he wanted this one shadow to mark the beginnings of a war between an obvious good and an obvious evil, and Roman playing the hero that in the end would save them all.

With a sinking heart, Virgil came to the realisation that Risus had let go of his arm, having backed away to stand with the others. He probably wanted to protect Captiosus. Roman would no doubt have his sword at the ready- because of course he would have remembered to bring one, perfectly capable of protecting the crown prince too. That was his job after all. A job that Virgil was failing spectacularly. He could hear their voices as they moved away to the side, but the shadow did not change its course. It was still heading for Virgil.

The shadow... had come for him?

Maybe that was the reason he was here. Maybe after all his struggles to avoid being caught, Roman's plan for him - if this was part of his plan at all - was to be killed here today, leaving Roman to step up and succeed where where Virgil had failed. Had his character truly been created to die? His question was answered right before the shadow struck him in the chest, and he had taken one last desperate look at the world around him, trying to commit things to memory to fondly remember when he went back to his sleepless nights.

The shadow however, never touched his skin. Instead it changed direction, swerving to avoid hitting him, before it plunged right into the crown prince's side. And Virgil couldn't do anything to stop it.

 

***

 

Captiosus stood between the others. Or at least he was trying his best to stand, but Virgil knew, along with the rest of the ballroom, that without the hands of his friends keeping him steady he would collapse in on himself before he even managed to reach the doors.

The shadow had torn away the side of his robes. Tattered cloth remains did a poor job of hiding his wound, an ugly gash stained with blood. That in itself wasn't too worrying, but the skin that surrounded it had morphed into a inky violet-black, as if some of the shadow still lingered where it had attacked, and was now spreading to the rest of his body. Virgil wanted to get a closer look, but Roman adjusting his hands to better support the prince blocked his view. He and the mage had helped Cap all the way through the gardens, but when it came to getting him back to his chambers for medical attention, all the other entrances had been locked for the night. So they had resorted to returning to the dance and leaving through the doors there, despite the fact that everyone would see them. Virgil was the least keen on that plan, but he had no right no complain.

His mind wouldn't stop. It demanded over and over for him to stop staring at everything with wide eyes, to just keep his head down and be thankful that the crowds had finally seemed to move on from him and onto the struggling prince. Something twinged in his chest- he shouldn't be grateful for that, but he was. He was happy that he could finally stop feeling like every person in the room knew that Cap's injury was his fault. Because it _was_ his fault. He had no weapon to intercept the shadow from reaching Captiosus in the first place. He tried to convince himself that if he'd only had an amethyst, then he would have faced the evil down even without a weapon. 

Virgil knew that was a lie. 

He had no clue what would happen to him or the dream if he were to die, and that was before the moon had decided to stick around, so now he was even more unwilling to risk it. So telling himself lies wouldn't work, because he'd never for a second believe them to be even remotely true. 

He listened to his demanding thoughts, looking away from where he was burning holes into Roman's back, waiting for him to move so he could asses the crown prince's injury again. The floor was safe. Looking at the floor meant a lower possibility of people picking up on the guilt that he felt had taken control of his features. He kept that up until the four of them had made it through the doors. He was the one to close them, and he chose not to comment on the conversations that immediately began as soon as they were out of sight. He resisted the urge to let his head thump against the door with a sigh. For how long he had spent in the dream world, he did not expect to be this tired.

"Virgil." His name passed from Captiosus's lips, the effort it took to do so obvious. The crown prince's head was slumped slightly to the side, but his focus on Virgil was unmistakable. Roman's was too, though his eyes were less intense. Instead he appeared curious, almost expectant about what he was going to say. That realisation did not settle well with Virgil, who had taken to leaning against the door with his back instead, catching what rest he could. Risus was the only on not looking at him, his attention switching between Cap's face, and the reddy-violet mess that needed to be treated on his side. When the silence began to stretch out, Roman turned to look a him as well. The crown prince seemed to be going through some inner debate that Virgil hoped wouldn't end in something bad. It probably would. Roman was acting like he thought it would too.

Just when Virgil thought that Roman was about to open his mouth to speak instead, Captiosus lifted a weak wrist. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. I think it's about time you and the others left for the night, anyway." He attempted to wave them away, or maybe it was just Roman he was trying to get through to as he had pulled himself up to full height, probably about to offer more of his help. 

But Virgil could see unnamed servants approaching, ones with gentle hands that could treat wounds much better than any of them. He excused himself, and convinced Roman to do the same. 

Neither of them missed how Risus lingered once at the crown prince’s side, and another time, at the corner where they lost sight of him struggling to move down the corridor to his awaiting bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> le gasp
> 
> hit me up in the comments and lemme know what you thought, if you want xx


End file.
